SkandhaL

redemption on it's way....

2011-02-01T19:57:00.000-08:00

it has been a long long time since i posted on this blog and apologies said... but soon i may redirect this blog into a rebirth of my other web-site who was called S.k.a.n.d.h.a.l. inspired by the five aggregates in Buddhism, form, perception, sensation, mental formations and consciousness .. and these aspects i always saw in the many forms of arts i love and cherish.
so now, where am i right now. finally back in Montréal and slowly breathing through winter and this feeling that spring is coming with the changes in action and for myself in transformation of my body coming to a term... a rebirth.. in less then 8 days i am having top-surgery and other details .. i just started today this insane cleanse of my body, nourishing the Yin and Yang inside me so they circle and play together in more sharpened duality ... so much changes coming and lately i have been blessed to see who my old true friends are.. .and the new people in my life .. also a new cat that i renamed Charles to honor my dear mister Baudelaire... he his hell of a sweet feline.
more pictures and images to come.. it is just the begining..but i have to say i have been missing words like the sunshine... like the ocean inside of me as been quiet .. soon it shall waves and rage and beauty will ... be ..

last night for a town i freely shall leave behind me.

2010-10-04T17:53:00.000-07:00

east southern Montréal. old friends equals old habits. sinful time for old lady pirates and their Armani pantsy uncle daddy sponsoring a fine fine one last merry christmas story. music y perhaps a last diner for meat lover. the only moment you wish to erase or pass through faster then you can remember is the time you carry all bags, bicycles and your sleeping body through buses and custody. once you are past those lines your heartbeat comes back to waving slowly. bye bye to your old country. 30 something hours trapped in a greyhound is a fair price to welcome future history. a new beginning but you never truly get rid of your past old history. this one i carry inked on my body, the look in my eyes, the words i let go somehow way more easy once i am off the city. back to the road. i like my life in motion. takes speed in day life tapestry to carry my heart beat's fantasy.

now

2010-09-27T10:44:00.000-07:00

time

2010-09-07T13:49:00.000-07:00

i just wanna spend all day in there.

i guess i should just write more. never had to make sense.

2010-09-05T14:03:00.000-07:00

Sunday. my dearest grandmother hates it when i work on Sunday, i have a hard time following this request of her. i don't remember last time i had a calendar or proper agenda. seconds ago the rain was pouring, ran for my bike. my roommate tends to notice every objects i leave in the small corridor we have. i am gonna end up smoking a pack of cigarettes before mid-day. from coffee to Rum, back into ginger/ginseng tea. liquids goes along with cigarettes. always. i have serial tendencies. patterns i follow carefully, meticulously. obsessive maybe. one too many aspects of my multiples personality. the doctors were not totally wrong. it is not a disorder but a gifted creative wheels of archetypes. lord knows i am very fast in motion feelings spinning circles 'n that wheel. i am waiting for another stranger driving all the way from Ottawa in order to meet me. i bailed on every rendez-vous we had back in my hometown. of course i wish i was in a better mood for her arrival, i ain't no puppet boy holding a happy switch button you can press down as ever you wish. if my mind goes down, there is got to be something pretty distracting to rise it all up. the night Jackson came over for diner showed me once again how easier it is to feed myself royally in this city when you get a guest over. i made myself one egg for one toast for one cheese sliced carefully. still manage to give half to my dog. the least i can do. she has wishes for entire days wandering in park but i get bored as easy she gets bored inside the house. we both are living cette chienne de vie. but it ain't that bad trust me. i have a home, for how long we shall see.
i have been waiting too long already for this guest. ô do i wish she will entertain me. i hate formal conversations about the places we work, the things we have done. the school or work we do. i care about feelings usually the rest can fuck off. truly.
always easier to sip on this fine fine dark Rum rather then the tea i make maybe just to feel like i am healthy. there is too many people i talk shortly on the internet. sick of it. then they wonder why i tend to sit in café and talk to the old lady next to me. they tell me story when you can't even look me in the eyes.

firts sunday in this city

2010-09-05T12:14:00.000-07:00

i have been carrying this photo since ages. september is the fall of my return. new beginning. i left the suburbs, my hometown less then a week ago. A return in slow motion. slow motion also the option i wish to find soon on my camera. believe me it felt strange to get a t.v. with 4 station to watch. less C.S.I. less crimes to distract myself. more bikes, even more craving for strangers to talk too. i dragged myself over to the mile end a couple of time for coffee, lasted less then half an hour. i even walk in and left some places without ordering. it hasn't changed at all. the day i saw mister Jordan, an exquisite performer waling on the side corner, he mentioned how calm i appeared to him. truth. everything feels more quiet. i got an old love now a new friend i see rarely to tell me about a new singer. and god knows i need new melody for company. this morning late i rode by a skate park, kids in a row asking me for cigarettes. took pictures again. streets crowded with cops they tell me a grand city's marathon, there was no one running. more kids trashing cups of water on the ground. i was quick enough to save a drop for my beloved dog. i should have been writing all summer on this blog. but i am telling you it takes a second to get used to this comfort zone, never the need to wonder what will you eat for diner. will you ever run out of cigarettes or coffee. i told you September is overture to another chapter. i already rather not see the cruel empty verdict of my bank account. will be looking soon for a job. i got more to create then to go on an endless walking journey dropping c.v. i always hated the formal c.v. talk. i like to talk myself randomly into a new project with someone. i became a loner maybe 'cuz i am surrounded by loner. the truth is most of them probably wish the same thing as i do. to be with someone. to be loved and love in return. if there was no poetry and beautiful images for me to observe i would not resist the taste of death. i just got shit to do before that happen. and i am still convince neither smoking or abused of sugar will drown me to my graves.

more.

2010-09-04T06:15:00.000-07:00

pour toi.

2010-09-04T03:09:00.000-07:00

now

2010-09-04T02:48:00.000-07:00

en septembre...

2010-09-04T02:33:00.001-07:00

5;38am you have not seen a word from me on this page since ages. why o why . was a school boy for a while, then dropped in hell of a true punk house. followed by a summer lending in perfect family territory. result. a brand new Marinoni i tend to call my cadillak and finally a perfect photo camera with awaited hd video option. there is so much option on the beast i am just beginning to learn how to tame it. slowly but surely. shoul dbe looking for work, slowly. ( smile ) my last night was delightful diner with an old friend, a true friend and these ones are precious. sausages and sweet dark Rhum. hilarious the fact i can drink half a bottle and feel fine. but half a pint of cider or beer and i feel like shit drunk, with a headache. lord ö marry. no need for your mercy i got chocolate milk that will do me fine. just fine. i am still re-obsessed by old school guns'n'roses. sleeping on the couch with my dearest Lucy. well sleeping is a grand word.i tend to awake before your mother opens an eye-lid corner. really. i am an early crow-bird.

the only love . perfect beauty .

2010-02-14T22:13:00.000-08:00

i left mi casa in a rush tonight. probably this habit of leaving, attending soirées and god knows where i really wanna be there is more sunshine. unbelievable this winter not so bad but i a truthful miracle i stayed in this city. all about changes. formal school boy and i want more. faster i use to be the one in prays for patience. but that exist in passionate affair falling days. il y quelque jours de ca. an old friend to make me realise un génie ca frôle doucement la folie. dur à cottoyer. but that's o.k. it was better then a roller-coaster, a fairy-tale riding over the road where speed limits are peanuts for the pirates starving glory. seriously. o ley mary months maybe the feel of a century since i've written publicly. but that's o.k. je ne résiste plus en ce qui attrait au mot. le plus clair. précis. aiguissé. aiguille. n'est-ce pas assez.
un avant-goût de notre mission défi, j'en reste là après maintes exquises de me suggèrer. allez-vous tasser. . say it again . one more time just so i smile insanely crazy . i wish you would stay .

dans la distance jamais je n'ai cessé de creer. i feel your eyes tender smiling at me.
this ghosthly love of me.

o crazy . it's been a long long time.

2010-02-03T23:35:00.001-08:00

that i havn't dared putted a paw over this page.
probably part of it comes from me beign pissed that my website got deleted.
why . communication for the sake of mary . or henry. or truly tonight i think bukowski.
it's somehow my last night of being bad. hi hi hi . well bad lately is nothing compare to the old bad me. or when the party animal people downtown are going bad. is when i only have wishes to keep up with the grandma or grandpa in me now.
my dear oldest friend Jonathan was right about some things, some not. since i've known him we tend to get amores in dual i understand why he never leaves the house. to a certain extend. j'adore et ne crois en aucun cas pouvoir laisser cette vie d'écrivain qui me séduit souvent plus que qui compte .. and o so true as i am telling you .. because i am not crazy like they tend to say .

i have just made my choices for 2010 .
deux vies. la première consiste en l'écolier. massage thérapY. shiatsu. why o why . cuz i have magik hands. and it calms me down. discipline. i love tcm. i love herbal tea. i love to heal.

o second choice. as a listen to charles bukowski. sa voix. et puis l mienne.
l'écriture. there was Margueritte Duras qui encre en moi . un écrivain seul c,est dela folie, car rien ne l'arrêtte. et bien d,autres.
what really matters . is me . mais moi seule c'est triste à l'oublie. des mots des mots, mon coeur je l'ai réalisé cet océan. la tout juste maintenant .i want to be honest with my past . ces muses de ma vie elles m,ont appris. et moi-même sans même sauter de train, marche pellerin. chagrin je n'en consomme plus.
je suis là. ma clé je l'ai décrochée, ma nuque un poême tranchant. beauty. melancholy . i do not carry . le regrets de ces âmes en suspend. when i stretch my legs, arms in body je suis. ici. assis. avec ce chien d'amour de Lucy. i went a little too late to get her. Gamble the mother, i am a lover slowly crawling the staircases for those eyes. look me in the eyes where there are no lies.
il y a plus que ca dans tout ca. i want someone to show me love . slowly. rebuilding past history.. i still believe in risk.
soon my name will expand au reflet de mes rêves d'enfant ésseulé.

Marijo Yorrick St-Amour .

mes rêves deviennent réalité.

passion needs patience.

je veut aiguisser mes oreilles, mes mains, écouter tes silences. l'écho de ton regard. il y des soirs ou je rêvasse encore de tes yeux profond, cet océan j'ai rêver les détails incertains résiste toujours l'inconnue du comfort en moi. i m not scared.. even when the lights are dimmed and shutted black.. i see clear.. i feel my heart light and free.

o words.are falling storm. i want tenderness

2010-02-02T01:30:00.000-08:00

november 18th, woke up too late for editing, althea is gone, tobin also i have changed his money. break rest.
saw christine at the corner o fst-laurent , she is good , i'm bad, no i think i am sad. why does it have to feel liek so much pain the feeling alone is empty you have left me. hurts in much, such a trial, crying. anger is about prays on my knees, why did yo even tought of coming so deep to take me, did you had a single clue how many time this has happens to me . you had no clue of all the sorrows and fear Jami's gotta gun, and it's gonna bleed. never turn on the bullet, i let it shot gun inside. detention on the paper. and ink falling did you see it like it was nothing. bloody sunday, in grey i cannot believe last night , i am not pure. but even with only a couple of hours sleep i woke up effective, better then a robot. and i function crazy. when the guilt kicks in that's what i do. cleaning, physical works real goodeven when my body and soul are frozen. but will this winter be any different. i do hate waking up without this 100 % of myself, last night i had to cry and i did not . so many journals no more i live on a film strip. but the wind blowing in me is name crazy. let me fly out of me, with you . , and you show me trains like railways of addictions , but we are creatures in the wild city, i am a risk taker. and a night tale believer.

technology gives me headaches. Romy is damn right , sleep . eat. sober sleep. notice your dreams .
i am happy there will be a circus girl with a wild wild tail giving some class, for terrible student , in Bella Muse. she has amazing writing, written on the body, in flammes to keep fragile warrior comign back to the lesson they should be taken,. some kind of discipline has never been bad.

there we go. tears, let it go. out. let me breathe, let me stay. . i never asked for you to let me go. O.. i did it again . yesterday .
fucked me over and over. it's so over, tattoos on the skins like another circus song. i wouldn't last any longer, i tried to write down in hopeful studies the reasons to be a good good boy.. but i ran away without you. will never stay , you are a dream gone mad into reality...
the word i wrote in transparent disease in order not to see it quite so steade , already .. cuz i am still a young lady .. this words is my tombstone honey ,, ,empty .
and on a day like today i asked myself why did i do it . hurt me, no one needed but the killer in me to d such things. answer in blank paper satin story for dead dreams you sure do not envy that. . i'd rather cry then to do drugs in my castle appartment alone. lay . lonely.
keep your eyes open even water makes it better , when i close them i see the sand it' s a desert empty.

another sunday, dan the man who plays tobin's step daddy came to rescue me. rescue him. rescue all.. incredible i do not sleep. maybe one day. a silver mt-zion playing some musique de chambre, sad , more piano, he has not been drinking damn nuts. i need a piano, let me be . but i have trouble breathign since you have left me. how come we x-pose ourselves so fast into the world . prays for the lover.
i possess mysefl no more. alone in the ocean black, and you had no clue i would keep on loving you . in dept. in deep,. black sea.
in another morning just for you , you could never believe where i am , the scenes where you arre missing... Jonathan held me last night. convaincu de patience, we are sad and happy together. why. because we are in perfect exchange of ourselves, i woke up goo dfo renough of a second to start teh coffee and run run run in the bath. i knwo he woke up sad. but sad in our hands meant a melody, and i remember he told me you play best in the morning... guitar.
i left th edoor open . cuz i think i don't mind my body. my body is .... so take it. and it's grey enough to light up a candle. and coffee in trays with cigarettes. i envy the cup you have been posing your lips on to drink it's liquid. . home . where you lay. maybe not, time has left you , left me in a flash many film strip. maybe i will invent a new type of sinema, 33 films strip seconds, faster , more days without you .
what if you would be here. probably making some kind of breakfast for the beautiful ' losers' but we had it all. i could be melting in a bath reading some kind of broken words for you . but instead i am pretty dry. half my body soaked in the water. no more bubble kill the sweet essence. plain water. i remember you loved the way i smelled. now i'm falling cigarettes, ashes in the water, and my back dream of your touch.what if you would be here, maybe i could cry. already there is this tension knot in my stomach. if i had a diamond i would probably throw it in the sea. asking you to stay with me, so i know i will never die. if i had an option play back in my movie, i would go back in time-line asking you to stay with me, because it felt so warm and almost safe to freeze away with you. now i am diving inside where i can lay dry in the ocean black. melody you have left me. and i feel like inking down the moment, the moment stopped . and life is cruel, have kept moving so fast nothing is true because it feels way too much real now that you are not here. ..
here inside with me . where i kept an image of your eyes ... but last night i saw you they were not looking for me. and we have lost thi sperfect beauty. ... time is ugly. whenever you are not here with me,, and it will rain. rain, until december. starts ,. fall then it will be too late. i will be frozen somewhere. you can't touch me. so please won't you come risk and take me ...
you have no clue how truly i'll be if you come and get me before the sea starts craving to eat me, and shuts down the lights...

more text .. then appeared what would become another sentence for you , in scars through my body. it'a all worth the pain, some people like the high rush of needles for a heroin trick or treat .. me wrong..
'i envy the moon that watches you dream, and i lay still in the ocean black.

words for you , for you, and for me there is cramps over and easy in my stomach. i still can't sleep. and i am closer to a point where i have too. i tried to go to an Na meeting, whenever i can fit them in my hell of a busy schedule. smoking cigarettes and coffee for the one we adore. just to see. it might be quite nterresting and fulfilliing my nights . see. i have papier russe falling down my eyes . list of things to do by day. and believe me lady i am more then creative in ways to fill my days. an dnights but i want you. to hold me. the songs you have left me, how sweet our love could be. show me truth. weeks an dbroken times in which i haev learn to breathe in a world without you . .. but th edistance are getting closer to the smell of death. never return my words, neither my calls, nor the cries in harmony to the moon stilll watching me.
your words to tell me how one should stay when they fear, but you went away. where did you go, how have you been . how can you be so careless. do you have toplay me that way to protect yourself from what ever love you use to praise . . i'm dying upon the memories you have left me .. pascha . remember this. the only one i wanna see is yoy.. i feel so dry without you . what can i possibly do in the sand cut me air in despair.
2;08 and i will not call you . my body rolling in tears and smokes in my bed and the lights so white. i am so fucking full of respect for your truly indifference.that this is when i know my ( !!! ) will on eday be taken to heaven.
with or without you .. i will still.
be the one writing the words .
saying i am still fuckin gthere.
in love... waiting for you and my body is stronger then this winter.
4 years ago i almost died in the cold.
but see my heart alive... myblood.
became gold and i flame in.
black allover thy self. won;;t you be true to you .
in remembrance o fthe lost i choose . to find myself . but love will always be a story o fduality.

all around me it's all a mad mad world even tough i need t sleep , rest eat and tra allalala a i find it kind o ffunny . kind of sad.
but pretty special i can't stay inside myself forever. cuz then i might miss all of the sunshine rays. '' the dreams in which i am dying are the best '' bbut i don't remember my dreams people say they hear my tormented sleeps. noizes. no tomorrows. i fin dit hard to tell you . i don't know what's gonna happen . went t skool no one knew. me. the childrens are ther eto remind me . it' s a very mad world but i like to stay.
the music is going way faster but the melody i sall one need to have a .. rhthyms in my everyday life i write in blck ink but i see every drop fine line in red. . and crazy trains . millions of peopls living alone , me and some of my true friends. to jump on crazy trains. .. you got to listen to mad world , and i will . listen . people get totally attached to the lonesome cats that we are.

i was very nervous.

hello teachers what is my lessons , the Bella muses . i am here to stay and learn inside me .
i am not what you want . i fell off my bike again, . crazy . i was suppose to stop at a friend's house. at this very last minute i thought of calling my friend juliam she is a better nurse.. she might not fear the blood.

today, decembre le 16 . words, images , sounds and movements, all turn into an emotional concept. i read more and i write lately, just to keep a little but of culture.vorace. now that the letters to the beloved are on print i can open a new chapter. more letters to come. for everything goes. in words even i am overwhelming to myself. especially when i forget about the balance , about rhythms. but try, i am always working. Valerie called me and concluded we are beat nick little fuckers. for real. i heard this man and his son in the bus cabin, shouting Montreal is crazy , 40 centimeters of snow. , o well i am doing more then fine actually. nothing to impress me right now.

more letters in the bathtub, once again. loud bar waiting for tessa, sunday knocking on the door. tonight another night out, soon money will be o.k. i am not completely off th edrugs. but hey Rimbaud wasn't any perfect. nor any of the velvet underground like my sister prays . even my dear favorite lady Margeritte Duras... not perfect. junkies alcoholics, also heart body and soul.

another .. one more. Are you sick yet of editing your heart ..

dear amore.

-i read your words more then once. because i have been again going through storms. but you know what . i don't fucking care your words and the rhythms of your hands will be the next one to ink me down. . i . wil send you a zine copy on the web in within a day , my new friend esther, who calls me now 'lady pirates' me apparently , who too the form of a certain poet whitman or something like that from 1880 or so, you know me , my memory , i dont even read much cuz it has been in dreams , i never lie to you an will never, even when you are far from my eyes, never will i deliver lies. you .. and your child i love like my own . like a grandma boy coral call me, one that looses memory , but i will get it back, i have not set my last word and truly mark my words..

i will give birth to words t'll my bones and skulls are buried and even then i am pretty sure you will hear me whispers in between drops when the rain falls, my blood is. the ocean in within me, and in within you also i saw it from that first day i got amaze by your beauty standing on the stage at a certain casa del popolo, this book, the malady of death which i use to call the malady of love, has changed, .
revolution my darling. i saw a woman doctors 3 days ago who said i had every right to bitch at my feet without a move i would have been in a wheelchair by the age of 40 if it isn't so. my hammer toes trapped supporting diformation since a childhood. but it's o.k .. i went to the mile end, wrote 2 pages, drooling ink so naturally that's the real ability gifted hands i say they are Lucie's hands, immortal weapons. i sharpened my nails .. got in a little argument with my little castle meagan, her telling me she does skool, band fucking pop practice, homework’s , beers and parties, and playing my therapist ,. she said to me if i can share with friend's like Shawnda my darken days and sadness clouds after 2 and more demanding suicidal calls from a daddy i will love no matter what , cuz he acknowledge he is my daddy and truly i know he loves me. and yes it never was easy for me to give up the snow flakes in greenish pcp, when i lay in bed alone , at night , she think i do nothing , and watch tv, .
perhaps i don'T even know who the fuck is the president of our national barbarian's country .. i am the gentleman. I wear my ties around my waist for now, less metal, more smoothness in the structured bones I am on my way to become a dancer, I have not registered for the feminist and look at me I am a tramp integrating paperwork’s for my teachers.
It’s o so cold tonight the dishes pilling in here, and the furnace are in my heart. Boiling for romance to come along the day I let go. Again of all I have gain in this winter. I keep the words and images. Awaiting for.
For no one but me. You and me . and the memories in which I smiled .
I am leaving soon. For my family, I will be here to celebrate a rock and rolling wedding . my dear aunt Faby is awaiting me to help in the house, my grand mother alone I can’t wait to hear her stories. And I like to see in the days she reads and struggles for another millions soup to warm up another winter soul in delirious. Also good news I will ride the infernal greyhound with the money I will sell my body if I have to , in order to go see my dear Romy Ceppetelli, in Sudbury, in a town lost. Where the brilliant boys are preparing with an assault of art that comes from the heart.

L’un est l’Art, l’autre ’Amour. À jamais.. pour toi mon ange, tu brille d’un noir, une couleur qui me remplie, des odeurs a craquer les ciments , les paves, les soirées froides, you deserve this love, his name. Merlin.

L’enchanteur. Merlin, remember you are there with a woman unpredictable, a woman digne de ces chariots ensorcellés,
digne de cet amour, ce sort en es jeté . to live forwards the day .

yours. Marijo St-Amour

it never stops , I am a word-a-holic.

Now . june 17th I suppose. Good lord esculpa the sins I left falling so softly on me tonight. I have been reaching, or well visiting a state of mind sober nor so pure. For a little while. As I wish outside this city. As I return, to an old friend we have been talking to live together since I was 20 , and 7 years later it shall happen. I had doubts , wondering if I should push my luck and also contacts of hospitality in this city. But my body likes to find his peaceful rest, the nest in where I can hide and write. And do as I wishes to. Just to imagine myself on someone’s couch forced to listen to their daily crap, to their barking out loud on all the peoples they have seen all day. I care not. Tell me lies and I will vanish out and again on my bike. I’d rather find the perfect strangers who knows better lullabies, or still I know exactly where to find poetry. Indeed.
Let me loose out on the side walk , so I can pray for rain to piss on me. Solid and suave. In dress you may walk by, in dreams you come right to me , in my eyes you reflect the sound of crystal. Nothing was ever meant to be white. What they sold you to be so pure is what I traded for multiples black and red in wall paper nature. It’s out and everywhere, only you need patience, mistakes and time falling just to see this moment that feels really wise . truly wise for now.
You and me . and here I blow you study of the way they predicted it would be . there will always be nights you wishes to disappear and the ones your only desire is to froze into the clock and rest in here. Just where I reach a kingdom who sadly will last like a framed cloud.

June later.
Shawnda you were in a lovely mood today, I cought yu right on time before departure. Toronto. I have your place for a week. And it make sense. It also helps me finally decide will I take this room in hochelaga for july. No. I feel sorry I do for an old friend who acted so welcoming to me. But I can’t , I do not know everything about my case, but I know without a doubt that I will never put a dime aside if I get a place , the east end on top of it sounds already like an endless trip and a slow return. I need to focus . on getting lost further , as far as another country. Seriously . I spoke to a friend just to help in the insecurity you get with aging I guess. France. I will find a place to be . money to make. It makes it easier when I have nothing to distract. No drugs, no more old friends to be waiting for. No project on hold to get tortred by. Only my hands as a tool to survive. My feet shall follow.
I feel sad and I think It suits me for now, a week now to sleep alone on an old couch in a room I know, in a space I feel home.
No need to answer the phone, not that usually do in this city since I am one of the rare one to have none. Send me words and I will find you. You filter the ones who may impress you these days. No one fucking know how to write a god damn letter.
They texted me while I was walking down another street going to another bar. Why don’t you try shoving down your throat some more pàté from a vernissage, you need to stand as an artist . o fuck even that vegetarian story . I like the Italian deal, sausage and bread, do not forget the butter.

Later . the night has fallen long ago. Probably everyone I know is out somewhere in a party drinking, and I carry absolutely no regrets for riding back to this home In where I can hide for now.
All night and even before I got to this café I know by heart, but tonight I needed to feel like the perfect stranger, you could say admirer. I was nervous in daylight, am I looking sober enough. Who cares but me really . right now. I think I was worried about talking with you. I stopped at Julie’s house just enough time to observe Zach, and let me tell you children tend to calm me down in the most perfect way. The minute I got inside the crowded university is over we invaded your sidewalk fully, o so trendy kids all over. I found an old chair hiding lonely in the back of the room, calling me to rest and write. Duras , ces mots plus que vrai lorsqu’elle vous dit; ‘L’écriture por vous sauvez.’ Et tout simplement une page et des echoes pour ta présence sont nés.

Now I will lay words and stop thinking. Stop believing. Stop the world it makes no parts for tonight in my play so anyway.
I hide my skin from any outside touch, even my own sensations I get from the dreams in which I visit you. No you visit me. There to stay . cuz I dream I am born the child inside king, and there is no land for anybody without a sharpened soul wiling to let it shine. Even when blurry it’s blood or water they screened my heart in all the space beneath my eyes. did you see. I danced towards you. did you see. So many eyes have gone blind without me Did you know I was there awaiting the feeling I use to get it solid in your silences. In zeus fucking god’s theory the poets if chosen De par une Muse qui dépose en surcis son regard Fallen any trace of reality. I was witness to your act
Perfectly fallen on me your eyes I don’t need to remember , it’s so easy just to leave with their souvenirs carved in photographic display of my inner body. Art floating somewhere only your lips on mine could ever see. Performing nor tragedy nor comedy, but reality as it doesn’t appear to me so easily.
I chase the dreams like a cougar hungry for until his life his no more. I don’t know if I will even dare to sleep tonight, I have wishes but you feed me , a savior for savor. Per siempre.

J’aurais pu m’en tenir a relire tout ce passé , facle de savoir que je ne suis pas si docile. I’d rather write nothingness then to look up the ceilings. There is already a story in all the walls surrounding me and it belongs to a dear friend so In respect I am forced to keep alive ce discours avec vous. Avec toi, sans meme me soucier d’y être. Peu importe ou je suis . a bras portant de vos mains, je n’ai rien pour m’entourer. Vide . Il existe et je m’acharne a brisée ces rêves de mouvements en moi.

Long goes the night, long goes the day. This melody tells me perfect simple fury, only way to be found. If you let me ride.
Let me ride on these railways until I find the way. Let the fool stay in deep denial. Tell me I where to exit in your eyes.
It’s in your eyes. I can’t even look for so long afraid to be lost.
It happens before , you moved me when they think you are asleep. Your baby’s arms spread in curves, I shot through it’s feather. Drawing holes.

Later .
When do you see that, a writer who reads from beginning of his book, to correct then stops to scroll down to the end . to write more. It means I feel I am almost doing something today if I keep on writing. Instead of laying my body frozen on a couch with no one but music. And ghost in my eyes. I can’t walk no more out the door, I did it earlier for short appearance in a parc crowded. To see old friend you only see then. Then I even tried to stay for more then a second at Didi’s, but it’s the worst when I feel shaky. So now that I am alone . to observe how perfect even locked inside melancholy itself. I think if I was a painter I could make a portrait of her. Melancholy. More pretty then the muse of tragedy. Why. Because as for the muse she decorates my arm forever. It’s never a pressure. But you fulfill my life after each smile I let go, after nights in the company of my friends, I come back to you, like a loyal admirer. You may be my lover. have we ever fucked one another. Or each other. It would be overwhelming we resist. So time exist. You await to see what I will come up for a plan next what should I do. To impress you is like the feeling you get when you walk in the home you were born into. You come to me in forms of melody, in chords and violin. Villain. You dress a smile on my face every time there is mortals in the audience leaving their seats for a better day , I dare to stay, I brave you until you tear me apart. But you have long to go, and years to spend on my case if so serious you want me by your side. Show me consistency . and I will make sure to stay strong of a man enough to lead you on a dance floor. The music won’t stop until my life is over. And my life Is not over until love calls it over. I look alone to the eyes of a stranger only because you are crystal beauty. I thought my eyes to see. La transparence pour les amoureux fous qui preserve la lenteur de leur désirs comme on garde à jamais le souvenir de celle qui vout rend le souffle de toute vie.

Today was easy , I played a card over a supposely nervous rime who was there to cover me. Chemical mal-réaction l’on voudrait des paradis et l’on vous jette des chaines sans pré-avis. Sauvage.
A friend had given me some natural remedy to swallow in case of emergency. So I did. And fuck me the result is brilliant . from colors and sounds around me drooling on the canvas new of this day. There is no need of reality.
Strong resulted of a late diner I had taken by chance.
I feel better. Now that nothing is real no more.
Even the teeth and bones I am made of turn into sensations.
That’s why I have a problem loosing drugs. They find me when I less expected them to surprise . I am possess. For the next 8 hours . to follow.

Midnight past history once again. tonight without a praise I manage to escape isolation pad to fall in better company. Such Saturday who had only heavy promises to whisper me. After the brief stop at an old friend I cannot hear no more of her little life’s complaints, at least if they came from the heart, but it’s only an habit certain tend to bitch about their friends in a lack of harmony with themselves. I left with short notice to come back to the perfect hideaway. A home that is not mine. But empty so I fill in the blanks. I felt this annoying rush of cold brain coke gives you. Don’t get me wrong I like uppers but I have a true preference with strong mind teasing drugs. I use to say in a perfect scenario I would have kept a monthly taste of acid on my tongue. But we are advance society filled with bullshit poseur chemist who creates so many out-sociable drugs for every good kid in need of a personality. Short story I am the hard one to amaze or distract, a lovely friend of mine explained to me the aesthetics of a ‘writer’s disease’. I plaid guilty with pleasure.
So my great idea as a final option to break in the down was these 2 little mushrooms I had receive as a get-away gift. Being a natural appetite lover I took them both just to see. O fuck did I see. Impressive effective the visuals deepened sensations I had to leave. Pretty funny it took me by 3 times riding back and forth on st-urbain just below the railway trying to figure where the fuck to go. Find the boys you know will always understand without a question why o why you get out of your mind so freely.
I road back to the parc Lafontaine to find Chewbacca and the gangs. The worst ride on a Saturday night heading south papineau in crazy traffic even the peds are a danger, I wished for helmet and lights, or simply no one for me to see on the road. I made it In one piece. I was so lucky to be private audience to those two amazing gentleman from a grunge era singing and playing guitar with such fucking feelings, pure quebec party kid spilling lyrics in solid simple English. To let go in short explanations pure of social lack of sense, of intuitions, of respect. The most melodic howling for freedom I had seen in a long time. No more pretentious artist posing stand-up comedy.
It was not really art, more like heart. Then we laugh , did some more drugs, laugh again over wise talking then gone to hide safe in someone’s home. That call on my night changed more then I had wishes for, simple rescue comes from friendly fuck-up as you are, still lovely. Making me realize even tough I have great intentions and desire to be sober with all that realness. Really I am hard as fuck on myself for not choosing the formal clean-up dress-up. There is a reason why I let the drugs keep me awake for more then I should have stand for. Think about it, it ain’t fucking romantic to lay stone in a bar dancing over printed footstep awaiting every good kid fresh blood trying to escape the harshness of university maybe. There is a reason why I am still writing after reading , after trying some more to sleep. In the dreams there will be love, pain, nightmares and sudden lullabies but little rest when you stubborn child rise. Like a cold crazy fish swimming against tides acting like you are too blind to notice the lights have shut down. What do I care for to see . It doesn’t appear that easy when I lay still my body. I will never have control over the voices inside me, they speak in silences like falling words on the canvas of my inner body. On the membranes tissues in between fresh fall of blood you can read the story I create while you sleep.
I dream of your arms to cover me all. Be my baby.

Words. June 23rd.
Shawnda’s apartment and I am glad more likely locked in solitude. Strange of a perfect night to feel the need for one of my favorite writer of all time, margerite Duras. You may laugh as you wish I barely read her books, all I needed to fall for each of the words she let go was the movie they made on her last years in France, by the sea. Accompagnée de la mer pour une finale on pourrait croire tranquille, mais se serait faire érreur sur la personne. Je crois que même dans ces états clos passés isoler dans la chambre noire jamais ce temps ne fût vide. La tranquilité je n’en crois rien pour la tête d’un écrivain. Vous rêvez. Tonight after certain attempt to reach someone to spend time with, go out in this moving world. Failure . I have been calling people by simple boredom, it gets heavy to stay in all night under dim light smoking, writing, washroom, more substances to affect me barely. I’m even doubtful my emotions crashing down recently are truly related to my abuse. It’s just the way it is, for me. And loudly lately. I’m tortured by decision, need of money to reach another continent, and the fear I won’t last enough to miss next year’s winter. And my friends trying to convince me on how easy it could be to stay and work on another project, one needing my guts, passion, stable and persistent. I doubt I have even seen a day lately where I don’t fall into dreams of a life so far, of the rush forced obvious you get lost at the end of the day you manage to get by. But I’ve been too long slowly acting like a complaint melody in circles endless.

If in order to break in the longest patterns you need to act insanely and fly out of your own country then why not !
Les choses se passent que l’on reste ou l’on parte. Il n’existe de doute en ce qui me concerne.
I’ve mentioned Duras earlier, I usually read her interviews, and each times she comment on writing itself, on solitude, on melancholy It creates inside me still a tension, but one familiar feeling. L’écriture comme une maison, quelquefois trop petite mais toujours une maison. A secure prison where I feel free anyway since I built it’s own wall. Solid. Heureusement il y a fenêtre, et je rêve trop souvent d’appercevoir la mer. But she comes in a dream, dans l’espoir bien trop loin. Ou l’attente bien trop tôt. Peu importe, j’y reste. Dans ma tête. Et le corps n’importe plus comme il faudrait. Il y a des mots qui se crée à s’écouler des heures et des jours. Un travail comme on respire toujours à recommencer. It never stops, and I find it almost amusing overlooking at myself, leave the computer or the paper, try the phone, try another café. You come back as the minute you feel lonely, lost or even fine you keep coming back to the words, to the work you forget to care if someone would care as much as you do. It has nothing of a careful thing to do, it’s vital.
Unexpected and rough, in it’s silence you scream.
Everyday I go somewhere, a different neighborhood to see a different friend. St-Henri for the queer anglo crew. But we’re talking family for today, Meagan castle. If I was huckleberry Finn she is surely mister Sawyer. Our relationship turned sour over the winter, her witness of my classical deep in depression fall, way too much concerns on my drug abuse. It’s vicious of a circle acting along the seasons, winter turns in scary, a problem to see. To share. Then summer time so you see you are far from the lonely when it comes to party. Try to explain to all the old skool what so ever purist with nothing to hide since their drug of choice is only weed. I hate that grass, makes me paranoid the new devil for me. I do chemicals, pretty much of a blend, depends on the occasion or the friends around me. Last weekend in parc Lafontaine observing the boys spreading lines of speed on their guitar and hell was it fine. Nothing special to bother, some likes espresso, we go for the strong shot for low budget. I’ve been doing pcp and many other come and go substances for over 10 years now, and the drama and worries tend to fade. I have never said it wasn’t a problem or abuse or ridiculous money burning pit-hole. If one has grown conscious of the act of being a true addict it’s certainly me. But you don’t stop that easy, I thought I had reach again the bottom tired of thy sinful act. But I rarely lie inside me and there is still something I like about it enough to fail on quitting for longer then 2 weeks.

I need some time off the paper. To smoke. To walk in the house more empty then hours ago, when the sun was still on. Now it’s over. Longer goes the night when you play on your mind so freely like this. Be easy on yourself. Try.

Now. A blessed be momentum. I know it must mean a lot for you to trust me brother with a space you have been waiting forever to gain your home. Once again. another bricks and white walls heaven for you . I could only be happy for you and I am .
Dear Tobin. Letters unknown still I shall make sure you get this one, out lost from many journals I have whispered your name.
Tonight I do feel like the perfect Tramp, one who gets respect and a perfect night bed I still have not visited yet. I admit to myself I was a little nervous of coming back, fresh, my family have almost fed me too much I need to move around my body , mostly after weeks of correcting words, thinking in dreams only a life could appear to be alive in the space beneath my eyes. I need such little, but not many people understand the head of a writer, you do.
This wall in deep pink, worth staring forever it almost make sense to me after a 30 minutes walk, talk with this community of gayness I fucking miss out loud in the now. More then ever I miss Art, I want to lay on this couch once more and hear you play guitar like only there would be ghost of an audience, just for you. Has it cross your mind so far we could not truly stay mortals. I believe into more for the souls I adore. . I know your strength to build, create and turn into castle what they once thought we destructed for good. As I said so god even in a perfect black silk and soft dress would be a details to hung up the walls. Decorate my inner desire. In terms of forever I may be unsure of what I am doing next, where exactly will I bring myself to create once more. But I know all I can hold in my chest I will let be free, in work or schema of a structure to draw, I need you to know I will do what there is to do, instinct are something I cannot deny. Still sometimes hard to follow. There Is a way and a path we both know. Where mostly warriors are willing to crawl on their knees. I know I got just a little lazy lately. But times are there for me to spin around the arrows gone circles hungry for more . more . days. To live forwards decay .

o.k. I needed to write. It’s late already , I’m alive more then awake. Like a guardian dog with crazy paws. No worries l’ami, si seulement l’étrangé ose venir déranger tes quartiers. Il aura affaire à moi.
Sweet dreams adore.

Morning came .

July. 20th as I remember . Was the perfect idea to come back to my dreamland home. Where you have no right to be a fuck up. As you wish so. 3 days in hochelaga with the oldest party boys left standing in my life is enough already. A pattern to begin with hopes of getting him to create, could never lie we have lots in common. ‘’ Libre penseur’’ a philosophy quite easy when the subject who matters is you . just now I remember Pascha’s words on the past, finally an extract of her vaste fragile mind. She left. Hard to see me blind running crazy with my self….Broken. and now it’s so easy to believe it. To see truth slowly. No regrets. I lived until today and assure you the rebirth of every yesterdays it will take just to see all this life ahead of me. Also to see if my dream to hold you close will ever be real in a way I can feel. Hard to describe the intensity I search for, and I was beginning to forget how does it feel under skin to see you. For about an hour only enough to crawl deep you are my permanent ink, a vital blood I need it to survive. The only black that can heal me so softly, tracing the lines vessels of an existence as the lover. me.

Tobin was here with another gentleman playing lego. They left and I get all the space around me to breathe. And the air is filled with memories, vague. There is no point for me to remember the pain. The scars forever I can see. Look at my body. My love faithfully dressed in tattoos carved into skin.
After the boys left I went to get double orders of coffee at Cagibi. Only to return slowly I left them on the floor. Of course I like to feel warm, to be awake trust me is not a problem, sleep doesn’t matter in daylight. Half a bottle of the finest scotch given to me for my 27th yrs old birthday. Perfect to rest my body on the couch. Need sleep but I have gone through more exhaustive times in my life. Played guitar for a second to realize I could. But I am a writer mostly, and it always seems ridiculous for me to lay down and dream awake. I takes the same energy to type in the dreams. So I do. Religiously. It’s Sunday after all .
Tonight I just learned there is one more party to go. Honestly I should have slept the last 3 days to be pumped about this one. St-Henri, Kumbia queer this south American riot funky girl band I saw on thurday at Sala rosa. Amazing performance and my best friend Miggan is having them over for a last private show in queerdom ghetto. Of course it would be the place to go. But I can also force myself to try to sleep more then necessary 4 hours I need to get up once more on my bike. I can’t think about it now. Now is simple. Taste of GlenFarclas onmy tongue, music and cigarillos. All I need. Lie. All is easy to get by and even I look truly happy. Only because I have learned long ago to stand for strangers looking like a complete citizen, with a past over loaded with adventures and many ideas of projects to follow. That part is easy. The part I talk less and less to anybody, certain friends maybe when you need to say out loud what you really live for. Love for fuck sake. Everybody who knows even little about me see it in my eyes, in all I do, al I care to reveal when words drops out free with charged emotions. Tell me stories of the world, it’s politics and primate habits, my answers to make sense but never do I need the plans on my answers. Never. Comes naturally out of what I know exist, what I could possibly care for. But I don’t. don’t get me wrong I am not even miles away from heartless. Au contraire. Myself is a map quest endless of emotions. And I feel for an illusion so real my eyes to be captured by the look in your eyes. when you stare into me. You still smile to the most ridiculous thing I say about everyday. About the way I react to this jungle I fear not, aware of the might be danger, I realize it as we walked outside the café no one. Will ever be able to cross path in disturbs of the space we create between us. Ces reards tu me lance les rappels de ma vie. Celle que j’ai choisie. Ce destin à qui j’ai mainte fois promis sur mon Coeur de poursuivre acharnée le courant de mes désirs. Et j’y crois, et mon corps un jour tombera à la derive. je possède une àme qui jamais ne meure. Maybe then without such alive body I will manage to rest. Awake. The love I carry forever will be. And your life and memory is the one that feed me. Fill me in the exact same way an ocean could easily swallow me.

Always loved the souvenirs. As I open my guitar case appear to me the journal I wrote the year I met you. read. Here is a copy of your words. Few ones I get to follow me away from you.

‘’ Margo, let’s hang on together.
You are delishous and magical.
You kill me.
I want to grow up with you, too.
There are no words in this moment.
Just praise… find rest.
Hearts. P. ‘’

You also kill me in this luscious distance, still you are the reason I feel this heart of mine immortal.
It was lovely to see we both have changed, the words we use to describe each other’s reality in feelings has grown a better clear. Only seems the rhythms are fully crescendo. Hunting melody I adore the way it possess me. Fill me. When I could care to focus on zillions other things I do not. You are the one that I want.
And if I can’t be with you . Nothing will ever stop me from dreaming of you, from moving in tango with you, are the shadow there in beneath my eyes. What I feel wasn’t meant for any explanations, any reasons, and there is no fucking solutions. I lost some fake days of happy time struggling to create a lie for you that I didn’t care no more. No I redeem to the way I feel.
Always seems to people like a painful feel when I drop inside the focus of my depts… I am not masochist I get chained freely so I don’t run again towards wherever you are. I want to taste your lips. Touch you until dawn. Wishes for your fingers tracing my body releasing lust I hide away in every day now.
I am not sad. I’m in love. Ce mots Éphémère que vous crée précieusement pour protéger tous ces fous perdus aisément au gré d’un amour de passant. Le regard qui vous est caché à cet instant, le mien si trenchant une lame découpe vos espoirs drapée de lacheté. My feelings are real. Naked. Sometimes this envy to reach a death comes through me, but that would easy. Really. I am an animal trapped away form you. And I get driven by my instincts, my thirst for you. So I live. Slowly then the killer in me awakes so I chase down the tempo of my own life.
Ride fiercely insanely you are the last one of your endangered specie. I would be a fucking coward to stop the run and leave you chances to ride on my graves for a while. Persist.
Passion needs patience. And I love it even more when you dare to remind me. When you stand just right there in front of me.
The respect I have for you helps me lots to stay behave in a cage created just to keep me from holding you. We exchange words and smiles. But. My eyes never could resist to translate for you my heart screams in silently.

As I read the Rumi book few poems already I’ve tasted, tears rise. I wish to write them one by one, all of them to cover this body of mine. Pray for only you to discover them first. Reading lines by lines close enough to the skin so I can feel your breathe. Creating our lips silent curse of a love to stay forever silver. I’m alive, still. Dreaming of you creates air for all the heavy days becoming so easy to find me when I see you. it’s better stronger. Never dies while everything changes. Silences feed my lungs and I still can feel my time’s arrows in steal knocking out alive more true this heart of mine.

August first. Already over . Many hours. Many perfect friends.
Food. Again I was no angel, but this time no one went on the easy to hide on side of alcohol. Really all corrupt and happy my little friend. Al got here in the morning, and a lucky day the ones I truly adore all reunited in our infamous backyards. Alcohol so early and all day until we hit te wild turkey. There was a party, and I can’t except myself to be the nightlife battery so alive and talking. I left . I leave when I do. Need to. Someone to follow you in the end protects you from what your mind can be in stone and delightful lonelyness. Where he always go even blindfolded. Where love is. In memories. In now. But I wonder where to look. They say the attraction of what you are kept chained away from. The dreams you never feels on your skin. The ocean you have stopped crying for it’s endless view, I believe it rest in me. Maybe that’s why I lay words so easily when I feel it in me, the ocean black. So soft and deep you forget to breathe but you never would call it death. If your life today or more like yesterdays would start by an end and follow the rhythms of our waters moving in together. What would it be like.
All I ever dreamt of my eyes wide open. Sharp look in through the invisible mirror no one see but it reflects forever you and me. And there is no places or time we don’t exist. No such exit. So clear where no one knows, or dare to sees. Only One way to go. Where the heart beat. Where our fears become mutual and instincts of love, survival, desire in. Dual.
Just now I am as always hopeless romantic somehow less negative then anyone would believe their ‘lecture’ of my guts in words. It’s a rainfall you never know when the lights shut down, there is wind, more, rain. Already heavy. Maybe a single wonder, does it matter, will it ever matter all I say to a perfect stranger when I am the lover. Remember. In my dreams you receive each of these letters. You read slowly alone. You tell me back in whispers, black ink reveals the dreams and desire pure.
No lie. You believe that it never really matter to let go, really, you spit it all so nicely for my eyes to see. I am not craving your body nothing close to how my mouth waters thinking of your words, your utter voice and a picture of your eyes tattooed in the back of my mind. Sublime. You may think I want you so.
But I feed myself with such luxury of poetry like no one knows when travel there own body. I don’t jerk off. I feel the touch better on my skin, if you would expose your heart in fragments.
I would be careful.
Read in gently. Slow. I never forget it’s in details I tend to love madly.
As I remember or even in the beginning of this book there is moment I write for you in such a hurry. Nervous. Scared and lost in my own skin. Care less in the daylight. & Care to dream into bright black. Twilight. It’s true I confess they were never easy to take on kind of feelings exploded puzzled unsteady of all I could think of at this present moment. Now I would like to call it ‘l’instant prégnant’ . I am older and it’s not quite a lie they say wisdom grow if you know how to feed it well. Never starve. Trust. Turn the fragile crooked walls into palisade , curved lines that never ends their perfection almost. Exist. I never saw it, felt my heart calm in motion away. Inoffensive sailboat for devoted sailor . Anywhere there will always be water to find me. In the realms of my most clear fantasy . When I see you standing soft and talking we lay eyes for each other. And I awake, in heavy lust and blood waves riding me. I still hold, stay steady. If only your hand was to press my chest, where lies could never be. No need to dissect me for a touch under layers of who ever I meant to be. I only ever pray for you .
Le Coeur. Ces jours-ci certains ont l’envie de froler, l’entendre se hurler dans mes mains. Somehow I can cope with such gentleman answer. But answers in sentimental logic are pretty light compare to the feeling itself. That’s how I may love only never there is letters to follow. I was never meant or any good in will for giving form to a graphic heart, le dictionnaire de mes envies n’existe pas. No grammars rules, no explanations for the casual love. Act for it in order to erase the days you could leave them empty. But empty is a dicease. And love may be une maladie fatale. Elle ne vous empêche en rien d’exister. Au contraire, à lui seul cet amour triste parfois, respire en moi des mélodies composée. Gammes vitale. Sérénades hantée résonne à jamais pour l’enfant ésseulé.
Crazy. Becomes easy to resist the drop lost in passion. Surely it is a loaded guns. Triggers. Death some could see it an exit door fast and easy. Lies for little criminals . I am a serial type of lover. In details I loose myself, comfort loud delight. But then again you are not the victim. I kill the senseless in days obscured by mortal student spare no story I am broke but happy. Who are you if not the victim. You are the ending of every moving pain I ever inflicted to myself. Healing my hands swollen blood in the name of every stranger. Did not matter. Murders in precise for times you hardly can believe in any such beauty. Melancholy is no feeling to be denied. Mostly an elixir to soften every memories where I stand alone. You have left. Enough time for me to re-build life in dreams can be. I am a boy then a woman, remains on my feelings. Dream reign loud I would like to propel them into your nights. Breathe low. Hold me until morning fade away. Captive. I feel safe even when I find … fear.
Fear to let go.
Rule number one. If anyone thought me obsessive they have read me wrong. look into my eyes where there are no lies.
Faithful to no one but the love I live in the name of.
Say it encore. Never matters. The object of my affection and all it draws, Hide in everywhere to see. Only you may not feel the way I do. It’s o.k.
The day is so early now still I havn’t slept. Awaken by words threatening to haunt your dreams if you dare fall asleep. So I stayed, almost quiet except I go to pee like a maniac since I have done a little upper. We all did. But I get bigger portions so I rest my body, let go my mind. Too much to handle just to even think I could lay there by her side, amazing lady caring for me who has arrive this morning from new york. She deserve my hands to hold her, my tongue to waters for her body, and all eyes I can do. It’s a hard time trying to keep love alive. Was able to see it in her eyes growing tender for me. simple and steady practically dreamy of a story. But I can hide the fairy dress in serpents slow grip crawling on me. Deeply, they seduce me. Surrounded me. Am I week to let my mind enraptured by a muse’s subtle souvenirs. Love they say it magic. True. I injected the spell in my blood ô ages ago and I heard there would not be any Mercy soon there to come and get me. I want it that way. Exquisite torture sometimes but it’s all that makes sense now in this life of mine. All that ever made sense since I first saw you.

So many cigarettes burned slowly, all over night. Maybe it annoys the sleeping angels around me. C’est la vie. They know what it’s like by now to spare time with my chronic word-a-holic habits. Like a baby need steady his milk, I need to dream of you so much. Mental exercise of style. Learning the limits, breaking them one by one. But keep the rhythm. Else you might loose more of yourself then just a feeling. More. I do hope for something real, but I have been so quiet, aware of anybody around me, or such ever could be. There I feel stable towards old friends for whom my love if so immense even romance gets a hard time to compete. Friends who end up looking like old couple who finish one another’s sentences. Many people won’t fight if they have the chance to create affairs that last forever. Friends under black or white will keep up under pressure. Stay.
You treat them like gold once you realize they’ll ever be the only fortune to surround you. You never own truly any fortunes, all fucking worth shit compare to a feeling. Sensation. Love will never turn into gold. No .
Love will rain silver, crystal pure water in and over you. Promises in black colored frames decorating pretty castle.
We danced together it feels endlessly. Only you may find it hard to keep the steps even in between the melodies, silence fall. A fine ear can move in between all the broken pieces, ballroom fallen tragedy.
Ending for more promises, black colored frames decorating perfectly your inner body’s funeral. Set free your mind who dreamt of love as a destiny. You won’t recover. A picture like that becomes pregnant in the eyes. it’s a ending I create for you, imagine. No further, I am better agile that you could remember.
And more. Alive. for now I like to stay, and tell you story. You could say I play the game that pushes you to re-create 1000 fairy tale to dress up the heart. You may think of lies and lullabies, I only dress him up in feelings never denial.
There Is this song I adore, French called; ‘le vent l’emportera’ and I cannot help but crave for departure. For further then that actually, I want to be far already, possibly close by the sea. Feeling home and strong when I drop inside and the clever snakes comes back to poisoned me. Even sweeter their venom like your eyes they attack me sharply. Fill my inside let grow lust and you are asking of me to stay calm. Quiet. Never whisper love or else she might run. Away. Time teach you hardly when you act on your instinct. They are brilliant but never understood a certain fear. One who begged you to brave and stay. To see something would have happen. Passion needs patience, we both never felt it deep enough on time to build in metal rope to hold each other from shaking. Thin ropes under our love how crazy we thought maybe it was meant to be easy. Spell fast, left it so early fuckers autumn late didn’t you know new born ain’t no strong dog on the fall of winter. Cold shot baby we froze it already. Protecting your soul instantly you were gone hiding, warm illusions ever disappear in the snow. I think I have always been a little stronger in such weather , I stayed longer. Felt like even our love lost freezing I took it gently in my arms. Swallowed it tasted better then the body of christ back in my chest. 3 years almost later I still feed the motions day light through the thin skin over my heart, across my throat. Cries and whispers your name and the touch of your hands.
I guess most people I know do not see the purpose, reasons whatever pushes me to keep myself and the only love I can remember so strong, still alive and dominant like never before.
I never thought it so, but it came in a very natural way for me to feel my skin, the tattoo covering pain, my protection yet I feel it’s of your hands I am dreaming in silences. Waiting like it’s all that truly make sense. Your hands to create scars & art pleasuring dreams. Fuck.
FUCK. I swear. Fuck. May I spell it one more time.
Fuck. When the songs I play insomnia sings for me. For all the many things I would like to say to you.
I don’t believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now. No one I doubt would drop so easily their heart, play true, until the bet consist of the precious life you possess. The player alone still will remain captive. Reality kept a Sweet beautiful prison I can only escape by writing.
Live forwards the day.

For later. Today for now is no different then the day before.
I havn’t slept and the words I created unconscious I fell in love for. It’s a sad story for others sometimes when you get trapped into the things you love. Words anytime better then sex when I write for you. sex is nothing I can easily order, I need to want it truly, be cleaner then I feel now. The need to miss your kiss when you are asleep, to dream awake of what sex could be. I cannot lie I don’t remember playing my hands insanely on your body like the way I do. No words, I am always the one to stop kissing you. But .
I do like you and it’s true, but I feel so independent when I’m with you. not that any possession is right. Wishes to belong with someone for longer then the little days we spend together. I would be out of my mind, honesty so raw as you can see if I was a book open, less then any sweet truth to reveal. Not even boredom. Indifference. Feels cold. Always.
All you need is a day to drag over, they both Althea and Al did drugs, alcohol and party last night. I am awake out of brain stimulation and high drugs tolerance. Try to take it slowly, at least Althea makes it easier for me today to play anti-sexual pilgrim. And god fuck knows how devoted I can be when it comes to keep it for my self this energy, feed my wisdom. Clear vision when my eyes shut down. Take a look inside, all there is is mine. And I am not at all a starving wolf when someone’s body is an option to me. I crave more deep then a sweet simple relationship. More can be easy, it never had to be volcan burning crushes to get my attention for more then an hour.
If you ever read this I hope you understand the way I feel has to do so much with my writing. I made a home into this way I tend to love to drown in their memory. To loose grip turns out harder since this past contains also my dreams for every hours rings in bells for the life I wish to pursue. I never was the kind to let go of my dreams. Said it all over. I am at least some kind of purist to believe into all the crazy scenarios I like to build. Cat power plays, same music, soon there will be a change. We all gotta change. Some things you hardly ever change, even with the biggest will. I wasn’t born hating all the demons I grew up with, one can pleasure then hurt himself and others by simple act. Never will you prevent or predict the sensations you inflict in every direction. The difference is that you still choose who shall you try best to save. Yourself. Or the ones you love.
Selfish has an horrible definition on my cpu dictionary. Self-centered, self-seeking. To self-seek has nothing truly selfish. Form my point of view observing what I SELF_SEEK, I don’t know many who would follow me. I invite you in my brains, follow me close. From the crawling to extreme riding. Be there with me. now let’s see who would come and follow me.
We shall see some unbelievable things. diamonds and steel.
Trust me, close your eyes. I keep a dearly eye on you. There still will be scratches on the edge of your body. Pain holds all that pleasure could be, just different. I feel alive, my body barely moves this morning, hands to smoke and type in what ever could possibly cross my mind. There is no one to impress. Mumble in the ear of a stranger. Like it or not I swear I would never serve you lie. Like I would for a lover. Really. Does it make you feel any special now that I tell you. Just for your eyes.
I could possibly meet you if you wanted to. I use to dream of the perfect stranger always. Wanders in café all day spying all around. Now I look more reserve, quiet. Not any less intense, I like to wait. Patience I try to follow when it comes to l’amore.
A past truly not helping, the muses are more then an ideal, they teach you what inside you desire. Refine darkness may turn into the most beautiful fragile mind. Sorrow eyes reacts severe. What makes them hard impress in this way they reflect in the back of my eyes, their mysteries. All that I don’t know . Wonder.
My attention like a loving soldier stand still, ready to move along the lines they trace without known’s of you. Many words to tell you so but it’s a process who comes in so naturally. Better then nature or science it’s a feeling you may draw it’s proper whispering. Never you can plan to create it’s dramatic. People believe I build on purpose all these lacrimosa for the girl I adore, I forget to even think when I write for her.

Ne vous en faite pas cette journée est sur le point de terminer. Everything’s got an end. Quite not enough tired to sweetly fall like . ????

August 25th. Greyhound kills. It does for real.
Almost done my first daylight, 24 more hours to go before I hit Winnipeg. You deserve this break, wish you could get out of reality just slightly. They found your wallet back at the red house now that you are gone. Gone too fast, you said good bye to nancy and Rachel only. You left already missing that night you fell so gently in my arms. who ? the girl with eagle wings tattooed across your chest, so beautiful. Gentle. I would have never guest. But you are more then that, you also tend to be awake and chasing night like a predator, I am not the kind of animal who jump so easily into a woman’s arms in the middle of a crowded bar where even the music annoyed me. He did, the man I don’t know, the one I saw you pushed against the wall kissing under is rapace paws, pushing the way animal grind when they fall in heat. I was not feeling the rage, believe me. I miss more tenderness in my life, the way I crave sugar in my coffee, like music so melodic I listen to survive the days.
we stopped in Calgary, one more hour to kill. I am sick of it already, I wanna be in l’Outaouais already but I need to stop see Sahulka, or else we’ll miss each other for maybe more then a year. Would be sad. I want more then a week doing fuckal in my hometown, making sure my aunt eats more. Feels better hopefully.
I realize there is so much people that deserve my words, words I promise. Letters handwritten. Lots.

September somewhere along the way. Back in Montreal, 3 days equals one night of sleep usually as I return. Only this time I get the feeling party ain’t gonna be the one to grip on me. Day number one I was riding inn back and forth Hochelaga Mile end reaching up with the party. Small party. One on one, the ones I prefer. A whole night up with Shawnda, ironic in Tobin’s castle, the words satisfying but I wonder if the lack of sleep was worth it. Doubt it.
I got a haircut at JJ’s and she took me back to the new house they all live in. She’s back into her delightful world of celibacy, I ha a certain clue. The words honest we exchange felt good, like the good old days. Her mention on that day we fucked each other made me realize how my eyes react different to sex and romance. Carefully, slowly since I learn there are nothing too loose. It does feel good to get control over yourself. She is one of those strange attraction or desire to give more affection then random sex. Follow the path instinctive, keep yourself for yourself when all you have is a little left. Patience. You still can dream of the moment to come around and get you. If anything true.
Days are long as I tend to awake early. I edit images, then words, then ride until you come and speak in touch again. Soon there will be no end nor beginning. Only matters left are the feelings. I couldn’t ask for any better. Silence . In a perfect grand loft I stay still, in cadence you move from the ice cubes to your glass. Bottle of scotch will bring you back on the couch. So you write. Everything goes. Why bother thinking before thinking. Makes no sense. Let go. All the no one knows. For there will always be some left for more.

September still. Today I’ll be out the space, so you can have sex in all over the walls. God you make me smile. We will be eternal child but I think Margeritte Duras tought me one more lesson I truly needed. Again. Perseverance. Achernée jusqu’à la mort. Sans le corps on ne produit rien, plus de mots plus de musique composée, plus de mouvements. Elle dit; ‘ les gens qui ne danse pas, c’est toujours inquiètant’ . If you could call it lucky she was not alone to write just before she let go of this life. She had one more lover.
I am so young, so are you. we should be building the day in order to be stronger. There is no need to do better, only we can never stop. Trying .
Last night so early I had everything there ready for me to fall into dreams. Sleep endlessly. This is when insomnia kicks in. Hard enough it’s impossible to turn your brain off. But mostly if you let it be, it always pays off.
Ending praise for Sérénade.
Cold this winter. You left me. Silences sounds of
Melancholy. A dream note in key tone infinite, I would fall with holding this love for you, this sea. Cet ocean noir. Profond. Arise.
Then I looked into your eyes where there could never be a lie.
I remember. Gently. I dreamt I would be your eternal child.

There better be words to cut and paste after the last sentence I

...deus X amores...

2009-10-21T02:33:00.000-07:00

Si ce soir tu résiste. Je t’en pris…
dors ta douleur sur un lit de chimères,
Ou s’affaisent les envies, les froideurs passagères,
Coule dans tes yeux un venim d’elixir,
Des songes d’infinis, aux miroirs confessoires,
Dis-moi est-ce que ton Coeur s’en vole,
Au duel de nos rêves, n’y voie tu que son nom… ( mon)
Ou mon Coeur à l’envers.
mislaiding pain in pleasure infatuates. (pleasure in pain)
Ne te verrai-je plus que dans l'éternité?
Mes nerfs se crispe sans toi. dans cette beuverie je noie.
la douceur du fugitif m’éplore,
ces regards en moi soudainement m’enivrent,
«Vivras-tu ce soir?» de concert avec moi,
sous le reflet de ces pluies funestes.
doucement se déversent, deux à deux,
nos esprits jumeaux, Nos coeurs infinis…

now. summer grey . i dream of thunderstroms.

2009-06-10T11:15:00.000-07:00

lord it has been more then a while without words. i kept writing, mostly in journals.
maybe soon i'll feel more stable in Montréal. well Verdun for now. it was the cheapest way to get by for a summer back to where i belong. i have been running all over Europe. just return but it seems far already. i lack some energy. my heart is still shaky .
i will deliver words and photos in here very soon for the eyes.

new york Mix. film festival.

2008-10-18T06:53:00.000-07:00

just those images for now of the mix festival.. i got to screen 2 film there . in the big apple. but Brooklyn i love as always more.

picture still...

2008-09-22T12:40:00.001-07:00

there is so much words to say. fingers typing this feeling. i need to act slowly. the eyes behind that camera, focus. capture me. au-delà de ces soirées qui défilent en mes rêves. i feel so awake away for now. let me rest again. one more time.

see l'acte I to begin. this is la suite. Sérénade

2008-07-28T00:45:00.000-07:00

acte un. Sérénade en extraits.

2008-07-28T00:02:00.000-07:00

2008-07-05T09:38:00.000-07:00

everything moves around but i have mostly been still. i dream a lot, more then ever. i know what time off means, i know what family means to me. love and laughter. i miss the city but not enough, i careless about money but need it. Later. i wrote by urge in the bus last night, it was pure nostalgia once again, and black birds surfing skies. zéro clouds. Late night with my dad and aunt, we laughed like drunken kids, smoked endlessly but it took me forever to sleep. awake in the middle of nowhere it still feels home.
i'm gonna stay just a little longer, nowhere to call me by a name. but i call you each time i rest awake, by your name. your name i kept alive inside me.

highway.

2008-06-09T08:51:00.000-07:00

Dear what will appear somewhere in that book.. to know I have just tried to create a film , a video , a dance in dual I dreamt and even found a true beauty. A beautiful friend who attracts my eyes and the stranger’s mouth wishing her sensation as a model. But we worked instead in a chaos I know enough that it becomes sweet tasks in the end. To the day we were trying to finish for a while this session of trying to recreate a dance only lovers in . love . could accomplish . and then I saw you , since I never do, it’s always a shock and quite close to the ridicule we met in a supermarket.
Trying to talk of all the more casual subjects possible, art , sober land , creation , life . but my heart was the one going crazy , in a perfectly shaky way, shy doesn’t even qualify. I call it with no hesitation passion. And like my oldest friend once said back when we were side by side shortly , too short for me not to be haunted forever by truth . truth in every way I feel, in the days so many I tried to tell myself you were dead, maybe that would have painful but forever gone this feeling , this dream I cannot cure how much I want to live along with you, I want to meet your heart once again. before I die, or I will die and that I only can write so because I know the feel of eternity. This feeling you taste when you get close by death, or when the dead and ghosts appear in the day so clear , when no one knows but you do. .. my feelings are nothing obsessive, it is never gonna be obsession that will push me to love you and feed in the distance this love for you . it’s called . faith . ‘’ love and faith endures the world passes away . ‘’

I’m in the middle lost of Brooklyn , early June 2008 . I met you more then almost 3 years ago. And even tough I wrote like a motherfucker all my life . this book will , not have to be by common sense of honouring what I truly care for. Passion.
Love . I write this word pretty easily you use to tell me so when I first met you . it’s o.k. but now no one could ever tell me the same. And it would have been different to meet you a week ago. The hopeless ideal , lie or NOT . it’s never gonna be a matter , the past becomes a memory some let go, by mistake, by indifference, by lie is the worst , no even worst is what you called denial . but I struggle with some kind of inner balance , how to let truth grow out of a story without ever loosing the signals only heart beats tell you so, I think my hands right now for a while, and I realize it’s been like that since I started to write, I could have easily wrote about Brooklyn, about the gangs in all around us, all night out sitting on their sidewalk, playing the only music in repeat so loud it makes me dream of silence for once. Really . and my friend Helen who told me the ‘ repas du jour, special today for fucking everybody is LO MEIN, morning cold from last night who cares, so far it was suppose to be 2 to 4 weeks, and after one I dream of so many things Montreal offers me so easily, and chocolate soymilk, and more. Even the chocolate bar I eat like an addict , a real one, are better in my country then everywhere else in the world.

It kills sometimes I know I have this reputation to be insane , o play me the violin, I talk a lot, lately I realize when I'm drowned into old minded scene of truly friendly stories, I find myself calm and peaceful with myself, with you, even with my own enemy or the friends that needs me no more, or the ones I get sick of, I feel comfortable even in my hometown that insane fact .
It’s all these statements and fragments coming that makes me realize just now, as I write, and more important as I remember . the girls who forever captured my heart . I could never pretend she has became only my truest friend, you know the kind of friend that stay, she goes away but when I ‘m with her nothing exist that we couldn’t do or go through .. started all by whispers of you written under my skin .

Ok. June somewhere June . 9th they say . basement perfect landscape of bricks and walls and carpets and t.v. and I am happy to smoke . really . some people need money . I do too. But for now I have all I need. Some people crave sex, i play pilgrim my way. Everything is perfect like it is. Far from the city . far from any worries. Is there a price to pay . it’s not a price , it’s a different kind of loneliness. Lucy my fairy lover full of fur is always by my side, even when I go to the washroom, she stand right by me , true love . and there is family , it feels quite strange still alright the calm inside, the wanting to be there, getting closer. Missing parties back in Montreal, it doesn’t matter no more. I’d rather write to myself then await from any conversation that would come over the internet.

Later. Still sitting like a home boy, so easy finally to do what I please to do. My cousin here reminding me how much I miss fishing and out work physical, it's right there for me . i touched it.
last night i laid like a stoner in heavy foamed deep water. i drank scotch and smoked still in boiling water. listening to Charlie parker.. why would i run anywhere else for now. i am wide awake. aware and time to kill professional hit-man.

amerika.

2008-06-03T08:42:00.000-07:00

i bought a pint of milk covered with the american flag, lovely . not. i have been craving Montreal's chocolate soy milk. although their ice cream is cheap and lovely. i won't stay forever, for the first time of my life i feel like i could stay more with my family. in between Montreal and there. but here i would need to start something new, my wandering have not pushed me so far into the writing i live for. even the people here have been welcoming more then certain old friends but that doesn't matter. i am a homeboy more then i appear. At least it never took me time to fuck off and go, i became more then good at it. my new obsession is to get my license and drive. but i have this new plan to go europe. why. since i know so far i cannot truly come back right away. what a plan. and i should do it now, since i refuse to move again in a stable house until it's with someone i like, a lot. i also fear another complete winter in this city , in this country basically. my body needs warmth. if what i have to do is get lost on an island i will. Al laugh in such a lovely about this way i have to follow my pulsion so fast. she works so much to pay rent, and i havn't been working in ages. but a certain man i adore is back and i dream more of working with him then staying in dear brooklyn. that's it for now, i started to dream like a maniac, it's one big joy i get from being sober. really.

..

2008-05-27T14:22:00.000-07:00

Montréal . loin de moi . for now . for a moment. i rode my bike with obviously too many bags into another city . it's full of people i don't know . i love the strangers who are better humans then my brothers. not you . the other one .
the ride down here . longer then 6 hours, so many cigarettes, i dropped on a photograph gentleman who was more nervous then me about crossing the border. i told him about my lucky charms. and it worked ô so fine. 37 bucks more i could have given away. for now i am going to buy a book, to take picture, to smoke like i am in love. like i do .
from now on, i let myself float, and believe me i'll be floating way better once i drop down my bags. i also brought down my whale.
way more words to come. it's been a while. i took my retreat from my dear Montréal .
pray thy lord for the hotdogs they feed me in brooklyn. don't try to catch me. unless you respect my faithful road, with somehow no mercy for what's left for now. les jours passés peuvent attendre lentement . très lentement .

. . tough love and laughter ..

2008-05-11T22:49:00.000-07:00

winter was just a shallow dream

2008-04-20T00:17:00.000-07:00

sinema

2008-03-31T01:05:00.000-07:00

exist .

2008-03-25T16:20:00.000-07:00

there is me , and another child who actually helped over my birth .. then the grand woman .. she smokes, doesn't inhale the fumes.. just like me .. le plaisir de faire de la boucane . et puis . ... o wait a second i forget the two woman i love the most ..

it better be there , this picture . apparently they all say i just look exactly like her , a little less ink on the skin . but it doesn't matter .. i live .. in the name of her . i recently, after going crazy for another winter. o stoopido what was i thinking to stay here in the cold and icing snow with my broken feet . but i did it .
and i am about to get back to no stability which in my case means the perfect stability inside my soul. let go. of the walls around me . of the light superficial. i need air, i need to lay my body in the grass more then actual sugar in my coffee.
i need to move again, to go where my heart wants too.
my grandmother on easter told me get a boyfriend and marry you .. o aleluya.
i smiled and laugh, she gets nervous. she sees the day coming where she will not be there to help me. but i don't need a boyfriend, i would give my heart to someone if it felt true, and i actually noticed once again how freaking loyal i am , to my ownself. to the ones i adore, even in the distance ..

the love is... inside of me . and i need to move out of my room , and see it in the people's eyes. dans les yeux. more then any computer screen you ever encountered ..

ce n'est pas pour rien que l'on a dit a long time ago.. dans ce regard le miroir de cet âme réside. .. i need nature, i need human nature.. and the animal in me is about to run free..

also i wil start posting more words on www.skandhal.com.

if anyone reads this , well move on.. .. go go go ou le vent m'emportera.

à jamais .

la fenetre de mes espoirs

2008-03-05T15:55:00.000-08:00

rue boyer. where we use to say a perfect wall to be broken into a counter for us to share a cup of coffee in twilight , or before midnight . or again and again .

des images. plusieurs a venir .

2008-03-05T15:23:00.000-08:00

de.lay

2008-03-02T02:38:00.000-08:00

from another home, and now i take back the truth about my life, in my head will ever be my home, if i take time to breathe in , and surely remember what i truly care for. after more then a month of rushing things, well nothing to regrets i am an eternal pusher in terms of the limits. but i thought i had reach my limits. no . i did not . only i lost a little time in winter's fallout worried i wouldn't do my film on time. but it matters not , now that i know where it was meant to go, ride intact or exact to get there. i can fall off my bike, on my knees, yesterday slow slide in the stairs. and bruise are details, i heal, faster then doctors react for me, since i tend to feel comfort in the comfort animal of my heart. nothing bestial, gentle species, i doubt to see me chasing anyone , no target i am the cible dans l'echos de ces jours passees i kept on talking for nothing , if truly i intended to act like a better wolf i would no tbe howling in loops acknowledge of what i already know deeply in my heart, in my art. you will see. when depends on the time i choose to chew over and over my emotions are no feeling but i want an aesthetic a framing beauty with nails around for the hands ready to price themselves for a touch in sin causes luxury. really . stay awake in dreams for sake of anything less then to fulfill your inside eyes. for they would like to fall in yours again . but you , are a dream i tend not to forget and for now i let them approach the child in me . is tired .
can you believe we havn't had coffee in ages. there is no spell right now for your name . it's in my love only i let it be .

mémoire por mon imagination

2008-01-14T23:20:00.000-08:00

o des détails...

2008-01-14T22:37:00.000-08:00

And then . Si tôt. I am starting a project i have been awaiting for a good reason, sans oublier , mais cette fois je vais travailler de concert avec ces gens qui ont marquées mon existence, il y a de ces mémoire et mon coeur sur-impose . imagination..

So soon des détails, des écrits, et mon corps en mouvements. sous le regards en éveil , la rencontre .
J 'espère des pluies en infinies.

Passion needs Patience ...

L'un est l'Art , l'autre l'Amour

2008-01-06T13:19:00.000-08:00

o does it make more then sense... and i wish you were here . l'Ami ideal qui au-dessus d'un cafe pourrait m'aider a en rire, rire encore et pleurer, mais j'ai assez pleurer pour certain, what i adore most is now, where i could cry and laugh along with you dans ce cartier ou finalement je me suis possee, new people, new faces, but you are the only one from my memory that feels more then real. and again i wrote one of those, you know ces lettres si longues, beauty and pain, of course i wrote about love. jamais un prince ne devient muse. il y a l'exception a la regle but the stories written in books, are done.
And we create the future.
the future.. you better be laughing when you read this one, when i think about you , i always smile.

Praise for no one else but you ..

2007-12-20T20:47:00.000-08:00

Chere Lucie .
i fever any of my dear readers read this one, they might wonder am i drunken or what to spell your name like this. en anglais j'ai appelee mon amour de chien Lucy, mais ton nom restera toujours le meme , celui que je prefere. .L.u.c.i.e. and those eyes i close mine now and i try to remember , in my head, only pictures i know as relate.. i am 8 minutes exactly away from where i grew up, from where you raised me , for un temps qui est passe a l'oublie. and tonight , i am about to make a pause in this letter, to go outside and look up the moon, the stars i am sure i might see more here then i ever do in Montreal.. and then i might dream of your eyes, and my dreams i want them to become true. for the new year to come, for the many ones you deserve to see me breathing completely, inhale, exhale, .deeply. and it's funny i had this song i liked so much and the girls around me use to laugh when i would play it sometimes. Lady in red, and i just played it for you, i remember you liked the color red so much, this card they made of you after you left and gave it to everyone, you were always on their mind and fuck you were smiling like crazy . 33 years old, and so much honesty in that smile. red. the color of passion they say. the color of my heart tonight, no more black. i wrote enough for this ocean black and i wanted to go, where no one know . in there. for a love i wanted a second chance to prove that i could change and be better. but it takes times. and i am the one who played it right to my own words of steal. solid. Passion needs patience. and i was patient enough to finally reach this point . now .. in the now. i am present. and alive. and my heart is still beating. the color of my love tonight turns red for you . and me. together. o fool human species who heard i was hiding like a wolf hunting lazy, i am lucky your best friend drove me here with some food, and a blanklet to keep me warm. she is the best example of loyalty, you asked her to care for me. no matter what and she did. .. and tomorrow i will tell her in french how much i care forever. a jamais..
i will take it slow, my pause, footstep in the snow, tracing to go. no more vertigo. for the new years i will go through my biggest fears, to let go of what i use to hold on to, when i felt like there was no love. i will pray for no god, but you.
gave me this life and i will not let it go so easily. i don't care no more, fearless to the fact that it will never be easy.. and i know like crystal clear that it was never easy for you to love me watching me hurt myself so fiercely.
you are beyond strenght, you are beauty in the skies even when they are grey you make them shine like silver lake. upside down. there is no need of reality. i am your only angel and even dress in velvet black , i still find a way to shine into the nights.

this letter i snot over, only i am the eye of a voyeur in 18;images seconds the new measure of my life. et pour vous ce soir je ne laisse que des mots. le film qu'est ma vie. s'apprette a continuer. dehors. je sort ce soir. decembre est rouge.

mes mains sur mon coeur j'ai promis un amour plus grand que l'ocean. pour toi seule. je marche seule sous ton regard precis.

finale to let go, and start acting on my 8th life.

2007-12-19T13:02:00.000-08:00

so, december close to an end. i`m getting ready for a new year . inspire les vents de glace en mon corps. je suis enferme dans un chalet tout pres de la ou jai grandit.
outaouais, alone with a gentle dog looking at me when i go out an dmove in silences like the wolf in me i feed myself an elixir raw, many words from the past retranscrit pour une nouvelle air a venir. dens quelques temps i will be back in the city after x-mas to rebuild my blog, and also to re-connect with what i believe in, an dthe people that believe in me. in beauty or pain.. my love endures and the hope i carry under skin has definitely not faded away. it might be winter, i still keep my tone in warm warm colors..

i love the fact that just now i ma the only one who creates cette chaleur de survie.
i run around an dthe snow keep falling, to find wood and slice it sweet so it fits in the stove.

i send my dreams in nature around me. so they come back in multiples form of arts reflecting heart a mon retour in the city, i`ll still be a gentle wolf, en attaque subtile pour une elegante annee.. a venir. . . i played my cards already . here there is no one but me and the angels of light only you can see when the night is dark.

god you have forgotten the music i needed you to play ... i send my love to someone else's new...

2007-11-29T06:49:00.000-08:00

morning, sous la neige et elle tombe so slowly in this morning that rings like glory. for me....
and i can see that my sister is still listening to this song with the same sadness in the eyes, in the body that i also carry ..
in the same way ..and i could look just like her .. but there is a lot of my friends lately in the story they call winter and already they feel so down, thinking in fading slope, or thinking that maybe it's not so fully worth it to go through and deep into another winter with no arms around her, with no arms around you .. and my arms in the daylight i let go.. stretched like swords, still on their new road, qui conduit a l'epee, so easy i loose certain memories but so sharp the toughts i have in me of the girls for who my love will always be inked in my blood eternally... i can't let go of this wanting to change my body, to change my lost et ces reves a l'oubli... there is a dance we have to study more they teach you how to get ready to die. .. . and all the bodies i saw performing were older and builded so strongly with all the scars and their beauty ... but i want to say something , to show you another body, one that has not lived at all any closer to the mid century. and one to say in every colors so black and every twilight to fall into a dream slowly, a dream i choose to call reality ...

my friend is simple, but will be building castles... a few nights ago she told me what i would swallow and forget to let go...

words to introduce a sacred story , with no lenght i have broken my clock, and i am not planning on any money to replace it anytime before spring comes, before the flavor of death i swallow into me, and this one i will make sure to drink enough of an elixir tea for impurity i fade away and burn it' s memory ... burn it or bury it...

LOVE AND FAITH ENDURES.... THE WORLD PASSES AWAY .. .. . .

credulation pour ton attention. pour toi seul(e)

2007-11-10T00:43:00.000-08:00

Another text written a little while ago, on the topics of ....

Words, you know they teach you when you are a kid, not to drink and drive, but i have been into crazy ride where you almost crashes. it's life i refuse to take it for granted so that's why i am a stubborn gentleman when it comes to my creation, and sincerely i would like to apologize because the letter i am about to do is a recital of what i probably said before, i do not wanna sound boring, but when people overlook the writting of a stranger they should based their reactions on mister Miller's best word ever. aware. god yes. and the thoughts of someone so sure of themselves spelling my life's history, the pain and lost or desire i bury into words so people read me. once i remember the first muse as an euphoric state of mind, of life itself turn into the orchestrate perfect death, selon les regles de la dramatique. but in order to write about this feeling it means after short deduction
To the risk of sounding a little logic i say so, you shall learn how to breathe.
The way i do, and i breathe like no one do. emotions better then the rain fall. the pulse of my heart is usually the one to lead my fingertips over the keys. i hit hard, sometimes slowly. always easy to be me, even the pain i have insane strenght and a whole lot of hopes to translate scars becoming epic story. i could just say, hey i miss you , and i'm bored even through missing you but it's o.k. i will let you know then awaits to the sound of my taping foot and nervous mind wanting food, they did a book sounding like that ' food for the soul' or some shit like that, i am not sure.

now , it's late i came back a night o so glorious i danced my way finally standing proud, then i got a little too dense into the love buzz, even when my sweet reason to be aware and alive left to her own dreams. but no worries, i am good, big girl don't die. and i am still a sweet heart, not in the way i could play you . i will give you all there is for now inside for you. Truth.

Truth is i am really protective, not on my lovers but on their absences, i hold on to it, and i give my heart for people to see another kind of story, i am the one to act in this feeling and i react instinctively to protect my story, my loves pregnant i don't remember actually never getting that verdict of a to be born baby.
no it's a surprise each time, and even i wish not to predict, i write and re-invent the past, but to actually believe so sure and place your bet on the future, you have to be crazy. and i am more of the dreamy nature. i dream like we all do but life has showed me how things can crumbles and fall down if you forgot to look sincerely.
the way i write for me is the way i pray, and it comes from le passe meme de mon corps, mon coeur, ma vie qui s'ecrit, i don't always write good, and i truly care not. especially not now, i care about keeping it real in my head, even in the dreams i carry my destiny. et il m'est facile de jouer la comedia del arte for a couple of day . but the pages-drops are starting to be harder for me to surrender, to give myself. it's the way i react towards love, i need to be triggered and moved, not by how sweet you can fucking look at me.. but i want people to push me up against the wall and still the love we share belong to no one and therefore it's not free. my words are the same, i give away a good story as i can but it's for no one else but the beloved, she is able to drive me crazy ,she dress the skies so dark and stars are lascivious images inside my body , they are the essence of my sins and prays
They created the me you have never seen . i am sweet when all i can be is sweet. But tonight my dear even the lover i played t'll i call it over, then i feel rapace, the animals we host are in times when babies are born more guardian of their territory. (and the birth is a fine allegory love to haunt me .

this is when the sweetnest turns into sour.

i have energy, i love to waste time, usually a good way to spend it. waste it.
but lately i have been writing still, but i found no words to display for the eyes of the stranger. i am the one to feel, to be brave, to feel pain, and i know we all do. I also am the one to write about my own death, so nothing "deserve'' to be compare by you. not even by me. when no trust are sent towards the feelings, the ones i doubt, sound, reflect. and what i seek is feelings bona fide. nothing last more then these.
i love warriors and really if for some to redeem in swallow a little lies instead of an absence. of me, never that would have been to easy. then go nuts baby i love to let you as you wish dans ce mensonge de reves. But only a fairy could touch me, undress me. and you are the mirror of a certain reality.. o these words well done. shall we remember how have i entitled this internet delusion of yours. le verre brise. brokenglass, that's it. mes mots qui tranchent si l'on s'approprient leurs voyelles.

But you see in the eyes i let go of no lies, it would be worth not much to me...
last time i really showed you not my heart, but what a heart could be, i remember the story about someone you have no clue how she stands, but you dared to even pretend that maybe i could feel your way, well if really you you craved my life story so bad, you would have been reading more carefully. The words for my prince, and she is there to create fierce envy in me to understand her and more in to respect what she is, or feel. to accept the little loving friendship she accord me.
and i never give up, and indeed my emotions if written by someone else, well they better try at least to give me hell of a reason to believe i should care about their hunger, hungry for intensity, i always repeat this baudelaire quote in my head, a man can live days without food, but cannot go a day without poetry... and we all have sometimes to feel starving like crazy then you loose strength, until you are too weak to even touch the life around you, so you have to pay respect to the piece of art we should work to create it so unique. it should always be, if your life becomes sentenced to death sooner then you had it all planned. enjoy the day, pleasure and luxury, also they all have there own duality , fear and pain and lost. and some day then life is over, and if one dies then i have a feeling only your own feelings in truth will follow you in a place where there could be no bones to hide the stolen dreams. My fantasy had never reflected into your eyes. and it's hard to stay attracted by smoke it become so fast transparence. and i am not that starving right now i have to develop extra energy for the company of many peoples i love. and i am also not craving something even it's mystery is reveal i am motion`free'.
I am scared too and i fear what could become empty i can never hold on forever.
There will always be in variante those shock of pain severe, but my love saved me on time, i will always be loyal and brave for it's feeling to stay alive after all...
i miss you....no you miss the;'' shock you think will move you back to life '' oh
i am telling you i use to be a freak into broken pieces of glass, real vitre, crystaux petit morceaux precieux.... if you are as vigilant you are trying to show me, by more and more to call me so sweet and cute. never forget again i am sleepless and quite studious when
I have to look at someone, i told you i am obsess ... it's always in the details i have found what i am looking for.
O miss you maybe a dream will come true. O god i wish there was music attach to this piece.
Strangely you did tell me you were a pirate soon ago. well pirates are pretty brave and then i notice your bastille. pretending i helped the emprisonment i too perform on my own self. A prison with pure sounds, the only thing so sweet is the music i play so sad but it makes me happy ... makes me want to stay aware because the friends around me i worked strongly to deserve their trust. To lower my expectations, cuz actually the love they give me is unconditional , Sometimes it sounds dischord when they called you sweetie way too soon already.
And my act was never a lie, i have so much in my head, i wanna create, i wanna feel. and your words remembering me how much steady and still easy if you try that hard to do homework then fuck it... i learn fast how agile my hands so dexterous could deliver the knowledges i trust.. the words are tools you can use, they are all yours , but you can never really play or build with them.. my life is a one time play .

prince pour ces journees glaces.

2007-11-05T21:06:00.000-08:00

notes au lecteur. ce texte n'est pas d'aujourd'hui mais en rien je ne peu denier que mes sentiments ne seront que mouvements. des tonnes de motset pourtant je garde la plupart de mes lettres sur papier for now. car il y a toujours plus que des mots, il y a ces gens qui me fascinne, qui occupe ma reality d'une facon que je ne changerai jamais . Ma vie a chaque fois qu'elle se transforme en cette saveur si aigre dan sma bouche, je n'arrive guere a oublier l'espoir que je lui doit a cette putain de vie, qui me suit a la trace, cours comme un fou sans aucune destinee ca ne va rien changer, elle te rattrappe sans effort.
mais elle n'est en rien de ce qu ecertains ose decrire comme la chienne de vie, si tu lui soupire respect and trust then suddenly ele va te frapper, surprendre avec ce qui ne vaut aucun plans, j'emmerde l'ideal innaccesibles, meme un homme de genie ne pourrait le creer il vout apparait a un moment ou vous n'y avez meme pas pensez ... so what i say is that i don;t think i am gonna stop living for the winter, au contraire je vais laisser couler les heures en journees, et garder mon coeur a tout pris au chaud. je me fou du soleil qui ne brille pas, et j'attendrai tes visites dans mes reves eveilles..

I am back for a sweet and perfect night in the castle of st-henri. and tonight the boys i adore are indeed away, so it's my dearest miss may and pick-up the gentlemen even i could never be. it's late already but i am awaking finally, after a whole day in front of my lab top it's good to see a new kind of screen.
Two days et des poussieres since mes pensees envers celle que j'ai toujours nomee la bien-aimee sont renversees. i mean nothing i have ever felt for the beloved will ever change, no one neither myself could ever retrace my past and lower the intensity even just the thoughts of her could turned my stomach around and loosing ground. never. i remember how much i believe my heart would ever healed or feel like i could love in growing motions for anyone but her. and she created a lover in me insane and made me believe i could die just to make it last forever. but i would leave what more then a book, and all the hopes i was ever able to tell my friends love is and should be believed in no matter how broken the feeling have been, no matter how lonely the nights would be. i always said i was a criminal in the way i acted with society or the institutions around but tonight after walking into warmth again i lay down and the words slipping out of me sounded strange, unusual still so clear it could only be truth. the kind of truth only i could conceive after the cognizance my heart was not empty, not yet my darling i have been provoked in the sweetest way still right away my love desolated from the closeness i am craving for, the lust i feel already elusive and burning in front of me. smiling for my eyes invited for what could truly become more then just a simple story. i feel secure somehow about what she clearly let me see, a sublime presage of a friendship loyal and devoted. and if i would be someone i can never be it could be as simple as this plans. but in her i began feeling in all identity the beauty that drives me more then crazy, and i have always been surrounded by girls who struggle towards the boy in them. after a time so at-ease in her presence the vision i had in dreams from long ago went by to hit me so hard it was euphoric of a luscious feeling, she was not only an amazing wise and clever girl, in her standing her eyes deep into me i saw the prince that lives in all her identity. no arrogant or fearful feelings, but nonetheless a hell of a crazy warning for me. then you know crushes would crush further then stage likeness, dropping fast into stage 2, wanting followed by the longing, to drop like a wolf's foot fall into fresh ciment, stuck for a time, stage last of the good era of the way i choose to love instead of meeting the probable fuck awaiting each of us in a crowded bar. oh why o why do you think i don't even jerk off. my awakening comes from the wanting, the fondness fever when unforeseen her spell falls on me like pure love i showed her the transparance of my feelings so soon. nothing to do with patience but needing to be honest, to leave only truths of myself. no matter what her verdict could have been i told her the better night end of october, it was so hard to resist i remember her words wanting to hide under the make-up that was my own created alter-ego for all my past, les traits d'un visage qui deviendra le plus fou des amoureux, from times of melancholy, absurdity and a reality i have dreams insane since as long as i can remember, the smoky clown looking so intense created that night made more sense then i could have afforded to see. the character i love fiercely she became in perfect androgynous way. god that night, on the dance floor where she was suppose to make it easy and more friendly, she took my hand to lead me into dancing one with another, and as strange as i sound, i felt like the princess in me never satisfied that night she fell in love with a prince of city, of my nights so lonely after would they be. after my humble prince would return into the softest friend i could have found in the winter i knew i would heal my heart et son coeur a elle aussi. le presage d'un hiver qui n'en saurait pas moins passionee. but you see there is a pleasure and rapture to feel you have to face the madness it creates in the mind of the devoted lover that i could never deny in me .

i have only hopes for you to linger along with me breathing the feeling we could create but from my past i have become strong enough to stay still in to what i trust in me. and i linger to you. only with you my heart would moved easily and slowly dense. profond amour i want you to be pregnant in reality.

saboteur en essai. fictive pour les innocents.

2007-11-05T17:03:00.001-08:00

Dare asscefazione… to be addicted. In amoretti.

serenade .pour la muse venale, j'entend toujours sa melodie dans le courant de mes veines, where my love you bleed. i hear the sound you are feeling good even lorsque ton regard only in my dreams appear,
when i dare asked for a dance . something else happens to me ..

Stabbing Darling’s Lullaby

J'entend toujours la melodie aussi claire, in an endless roller coaster, captive in the trolley you threw me into.

If your act unto my heart were sent to trial, it would be damned. Your eyes, your thrusting blade, were never enough to cut me out alone. You had no clue how deadly your love could be. Pull the trigger deep, your eyes loaded bullets you thought you could just shoot through me like a rocket lover. Oblivious you expected me not to react.

I feel comfortable in the prison in which i lay, drowning in a white porcelain bathtub. Gone the perfect smells you adore. Blank water shell, like egg dead and ashes of cigarettes float on top of filthy water, my body in pain goes numb (this is the only sentence qui sonne bizarre. Je sens que le metaphor isn’t used as well as it could be). My eyes predict the rain falling on my silver tongue. Stolen colours and texture of chains to hold my hands away as you wish.

When you grow from a broken boy to a woman, no one dares to read your fortune. They never mention your heart’s rising so high in prayers and feelings for the beloved. Deathless sky poisoned grey, the stars led astray towards fear. The killer in me is a clever shadow. Were you scared i could hurt you? I’m a better hunter when i am indeed the target. The lover is alive but hesitant, older, hurt, by dreams gone lost. I still sound, reflect, hoping to kill the murderer, to leave you behind with the snakes you let crawl on my skin.

I prayed serenely for my love to carry herself away so life could become one piece. Stay brave and resist, the loss you feel already, leaving you forsaken child. Your charming muse in rapture drew a story just for me, an act so grand. A lifetime. They lure and the space beneath my eyes sedates, my bones and my heart in flesh will vanish in dust and lovely colours.

You showed me letters so solid, noir sur blanc. Love leaves its abuser...
No exit in circles infinite ride, where cats go crazy chasing their own tails.
I do have an end, just before the limit, and even though i belong to the sea, it's not going to help me to dry the life left just for me. Even my mother still cares to remind me of the sounds of my heartbeat, screaming in pitch black. She never would have raised me to become my inner murderer.

Il y a le coeur. When it's over then it's over. No such luxury to choose the memory lane. They haunt you even when you are not done the play (ing). Les souvenirs qui m'habitent are the ones in which i am holding you with shivers in my bones. En rouge de sang l’amour becomes its pregnant death. You have left me, leaving that silver bullet, damned love in refusal to die, anchored so solid, a love nest, a lonely-ness inside me. Es una vita. Pour un instant on existe, ensuite il ne reste que des Mots, ton corps n’est plus.

I am going nowhere but i still wanna take you with me.

elixir in dawn...

2007-11-04T23:55:00.000-08:00

'' how do you do... about to vanish under blankets soon enough , i need a cigarette... i want a cigarette..
and i want the lights to be quite more absent, in the dark i can see better , clear in my eyes. looking for the perfect answer floathing in my black broken mansion.
you also sound calm, my heart race but i keep calm, its the only way i can act for now. everyday it will be different, love is a stable word, stapling all around each feelings driven through me, and the days are long, even when i do sweet fuckall, i am still a lover.... i could be a killer, and still be a lover.
i actually do adore the drastic movements in which my feeling are sick and beating steady. as long as i follow the moon, she will in the end drop me in water. not so long ago i still had obsession of my past and agreed for she would take me down, away in the history. and then suddenly there was a taste unknown, a flavor i have thought illusions made by the dreams i had even forgot could be . true.. the flavor i called the cure. a long ago. how the fuck i could have not know it existed forsaken me.
For not believing i doubt, but remembered no more. and it fell there for me to see, it wasn't any bright day light, but a low red in shadow all around le verre givre de crystal, a ne pas brise. . and will i be aware, sur mon coeur je n'en ai rien a jurer, c'est ma destinee et mes reves oubliees qui resonne sans plus finir... why .. car rien n'est terminer. the cure is in loyalty, i trust my instinct and they care for love, an act so far from the way certains ont l'impression de jouer, mais seul qui possede cette dansante dualite iront mettre leurs vie in an humble way to the mercy of the love they feel...
and the color of my love is black.... it's every color in me.
et celle qui te vas a merveille, c'est laquelle dis moi .. ''

un noir nouveau, un noir si doux qu'il m'assagit de plus en plus.

end of the purge of my sin is no needed for it's sheer love,
could be sweet in falling deep in dream warm enough to keep the blood circling.

avant . de toi. de moi ... et pensant a elle .

2007-11-03T17:34:00.000-07:00

dear marijo, dear my love is falling decay ... for who, not you .
dear reader, if you dare to follow i suggest no. i am getting lost because it's a better idea still then to become another street walker, sleep walking to another party. i said so not so long ago i lookserious at your serious, almost concentrated , you have no clue how i want to look arround and be there fr you .. o vaillant ce que j'aime ce travail, ecrire et aimer. M.Duras me l'a fait comprendre si vite, il m'a fallu un tiers de seconde pour que ces mots deviennent ma destinee.

it's not the even close to the end, when love turns into decay .. . so i can rise up to the slaughter. but then i'll be done with the feelings i adore.. when i will be fed , and gone my body empty. swallow m ewhole, the taste is bitter. i leave you all the bitter tasty memories. no one will ever possess my heart because i am not even done fixing the peices broken.
what are you an hopeful sweet talking liar , no sugar i am in love with the dreams i create. and i am still waiting for her to drug me to teh end with visions untrue.. come on.. i know you can achieve me better then that. go on my love. don't leave my memories still undone, i beged once ago for you not to spare me... allons-y .

''it was nice for me to see you too. in the calm and clear way we did.
it felt good and healing. ''

notes on broken glass; it's a canvas you will break it endlesslyand it's many sharpened peices will reflect the details you forgot to let it be. and it could cut your image in perfcet duality. fragmented replay in light for you to see there is more then one portrait to your identity. you begin and you should try to brake it steady, you need to set . free. even me . we forgot about it. remember if it cuts your skin i suggest you slow down and breathe right in. i can show and act myself onto the next step a little further drowned closer to a limit i wanna taste it in every way. i will break the glasses in between my hands. remember my nails the red so bright it was no luxury, only all i will choose is to swallow the pain.. and show you my love will exist and resist in any of the way you exist .

one day she appeared, and left . obviously . you don't need to remember what day. it could have been a century ago the ink she laid in and all over your mind. is permanent. ca va duree. et encore longtemps. and was she a seductive one. wanting bodies to drown in calore. and slowly in a night learning how touch can be mad .listen to the music only hands can move into. so it's another body... le corps se doit d'etre, and it took me a long ride to realize my mind needed to connect and slowly holding my own hands to show this lust carved inside me, a way to set them free. but the only sin who made me feel truly closer to a heavenly rythms. was to be found lay deep under the surface is your desire. mine and what happened in between each other. you said to me i should trust my taste and the water your toungue melt into my mouth. i never told you that i dreamt you would stay.

the words from you i pasted along today are nothing compare to the story in body shaped format i write.

you live in waves in me and my inside feels wreck sometimes, even if i would try to be solid like metal, you have too much movements dans mon coeur, c'est fatal. il y a des soirs ou j'ai envie que ton souvenir, ton absence m'acheve,
et il y a de ces temps l'ou je me confonds dehors and my eyes remember the feeling i adore when i 'm falling for the eyes of the girl i long really for. she listen. will be loyal. so true an identity i should feel almost blessed. no no not yet. only the feeling i need is to feel like my lips have been shut. only by hers. sometimes it's not the way you wanted it to happen, it really never is.

only there was this one night, another i keep fo rmy haunted dreams. you were looking so deep into my eyes, hungry for words, maybe then i should have been clever and move a little faster . but i became a perfect mix of fears and respect all amoung too much dreams and wanting. so i kept myself standing everytime so close, i could have been surrounded b war o rmurder i could only see you . if one day i am found guilty for feelings, and adore my heart with you i sthe only one i kept free, but i am not a killer, still if i plaid guilty i will follow the sentences i have been doomed i can't stop loving ...
i want to look you in the eyes, i am guiity and torture is so easy. as long as you come visit me. come see me.
you are the only one i would let myself be confined away from the hurt i dare to play heavy creating perfcet songs for me.
i am not always this sweet of a melody... i hear it away the vilain i created inside me . he's scared by you . beauty kills .
i have a feeling no innocence will not really spare me.. you. are loved by water.

''it means a lot to me that your care for me remains so kind and tender. it touches me. ''
les sens perdus rapide, lost yesterday already .. i understand, i don;t even touch myself these days . et y'a tres peu pour m'impressionner.. je vois venir les flocons, et l'hiver n'est en rien une illusion . no one gets away with it.

sp i have way much to say , but i can't focus right now. and the time so early , sober already. drunken love is an old illusion.
i will wait to conclude this text , i feel pretty far from a conclusion . really.

i can go alone

2007-11-02T20:44:00.001-07:00

when i write for people. the ones i choose to write then it's as always quite easy to focus.. i also forget easy to focus on what most people do... i still need time to eat, clean. smoke and drink.. tonight the people i like like to party. i like milk. i want cookies and cold freezing milk. and a bed that's not mine, or if it's mine i'll set it on top of the oldest church i can find. and i will not feel bad for anything i am, or anything there is . everybody have there worries, it's a lifetime t. i worry to feel good, it's hard. a lot of people around me crave the feeling called lonely, i want nothing more, but someone to be aware, what the fuck would i do with a teddy bear. seriously . i need sleep but in less then an hour i'll be awake for the time that it takes to write you a letter. i noticed there hasn't been any words for this page in almost 2 days. no one cares for now, there is lazyness, and i will never give up even when my eyes are falling, if what i get is a feeling. i might stay .

mes sens sont les memes seulement leurs fonctions different, but in the end nothing works for me if my heart is not breathing.

if i want to be alone i'll get a license and drive... on a highway, to the sea and i always come back...
seulement ce n'est pas tout de moi qui revient.

noble. one more dance in slow my vertigo.

2007-10-31T00:07:00.000-07:00

. Well I wonder if I should act on my true instinct wanting to break mirrors if you never, ever break the ice . le Coeur presse les emotions qui les emotions are never to be found stable. Inhale. Exhale. Words you wear like tattoos. And I do it all the time . right now I am making sure to breathe in slowly and lower the tone of my desire.
Comfort I think i can feel comfort already I met you only 2 days ago. Seulement….

Pour un instant on existe, ensuite il ne reste que des mots . toi tu n’est plus. Le meme .
Some stories are meant to be and only their memories light in your dreams are veil soon to be faded away. When you grow from a broken boy to woman, no one dares to read your fortune life’s history, they never mention your heart’s rising so high in prays and feelings for the beloved. deathless. Until one night the moon turned away and gloomy a sky poisoned grey, the stars led astray towards fear , invisible for your eyes. the beloved
L’histoire aura toujours une fin, but dauntless are a muse is charms . by rapture they are drawing a story just me, an act so grand it’s worth a life time . they lure and their shadows in the space beneath my eyes sedate, my eyes, my bones and my heart in flesh will vanish in dust and lovely colors. I dare anyone to step over my passions and I will set the killer in me, set him free to protect what I live for. Stay brave and resist to death, the lost you already felt it , leaving you forsaken child. As ever. I have not forgot how to pray, and I wait serenely for the day my love will carry herself away. then in sounds of melancholy my life will redeem in piece .

and there we go, i am gonna spare no one tonight.. only if i could show you why o why i let go so easy it almost feel violently my emotions. hit me with your best shot.
i keep my mind aware,there is a way with whom words will make my heart sway the way i wish you would be there to learn tango so slowly. let go.

i wear my heart on sleeves since i met you, even before. but soon i will wear it arround my neck... please forsaken me... let me slid.

extraits du passe. second round.

Are you o.k. you just asked me!
Yes! I am . you asked so.because I am drunken by desire, I float in the days, in memories, even the ones who has left me with a pain that really isn’t. it’s romance. It’s the luxury of my lifll those nights riding my bike in a hell of a hurry towards the girls of St-Henri. Who would have thought the ocean black was just near by the prince of Italy. The sea is dead, la mer morte, loin de l’oublie.

Dare asscefazione… to be addicted. In amoretti.

I need not even to say or ask. I just love to feel that way like I am still in love with you . fuck I have just said the words, why . cuz you are more then what I even know I adore. More then any perfected lust, there is nothing such. Si si I am talking about you, I will wait only a little longer before I type, l’echoe de ton nom m’est deja assez. What ever I dare say you are not there to even pretend understanding a punk like me.
look at me , punk my ass, you saw the black I adore, or the holes n my shoes, my pants I refuse to wear any longer then a three quarter, I am a tramp, a classy one, you know the kind who if only it could be more easy would drink my scotch my body on the railways, still in a glass with ice cubes. It’s better that way. Cold. Lemonade. Understand me not, it doesn’t matter I don’t like it when the people who barely know me are poorly trying to relate in words my life and it’s sweet chaos, seriously if they wanted a story about my peripetie, I’ll give you hell of a good one, but you got to look me in the eyes, where they are no lies.
The days are sober I am still an obsessive junkie, for coffee, for cigarettes, for sugar will you be my sweet. No you want no heart . perfection is a better drug of illusion then any I’ve ever did, meaning a lot. You made me realize how much it showed the way I wear heart on sleeves, suits me. All the memory painful drops onto my toungue . I am here with another you. A purple reality, while you are busy with such inoffensive wifes colored pastel. You did not see me. A rain fell in to my skull to create my muscle me. The bones I carry it’s easy, but then will come the tragedy you once called it misery. I feel sorry but not really even sorrows they have no morrows for the now. Remember you said you like my toungue when it inks a living forwards the day. But I enjoy the dreams better then you. I can’t let go of all I can’t truly have. I know you don’t always chose who holds you in, you cannot be the girl with the most cake. Right now I am still the happy so. I choose to live on an emotive diet. Passion I mentioned , is another reality, and I dream of it’s taste like the way I dream of a drug so strong who will never reck my body or memory. O healthy love will you dare kill me.. or will I dare beg you again to pull the trigger. Pull me closer .
and my true love waits, ride rode . My legs in motion endless I came back. Have I cried… for you. Maybe more then me. I am by now in Toronto . I also forgot to confess you my latest sins. Hear me only, I don’t need to be forgiven. I’d rather not.

end ( pour l'instant )

don't forgive me i can stand for my sins are the sweetest thing to ever possess me.

mettle hush

2007-10-30T20:29:00.000-07:00

mettle

noun
the courage to carry on; "he kept fighting on pure spunk"; "you haven't got the heart for baseball" [syn: heart] ...
fuck i love the dictionary. it has been long since i felt this hunger for words, the best is when i see the terribly kind seamstress of st-henri we could probably sound like we are talking about a love affair and it is. you reach the point when you develop an ear for every word, the sounds they make, and right away you'll recognize the good ones, they are melodic, poetic. simple . no . not so simple. i rarely heard someone talk to me with such melody. spoken words, but randomly is another story. i'll always remember 2 years ago on new year at most chaotic phase of the bellamuse, before the crash down final. when i cease to care, it was better to just run it t'll it's time is over. ses heures comptees, and i cried, and i did everything, work like a maniac, steal for the sake of it survival, i screamed for help. Instead i remember my good friends all praying for it to come down, hoping i would do too. but they had no clue i would drop in such deep land. the streets are actually more sweet for me then the way my mind felt roughly lost. lost.

Peut importe, i do not feel like telling you a triste story, doesn't mean you can actually hope for a reggae song, that shit makes me cry usually. so to finish the new year phonetic tale.new year and my first love from the time i use to be little, petite Margo. Miss Christine de Sevigny, only warmth by now can be felt in the distance between us. we created an island stage in the middl eof my loft, candles, guitars an dmusic, it was morphine playing an dthe drugs we were holy high better then this. mdma.
and my lips getting closer to her ear i began to speak out loud '' letters to the beloved'' i had wrote just ago in the bath tube drowning ink. i would have cried back then in echoes. Although that night my voice so soft and husky even i was impress by the result, illuminations. spoken words it's called. see i have never done it, but shame on you or i mean poor you if you would read me in silences, i don't even do sex in silences. seriously i would love to include a cd to all of my books. like children
story, actually i should have kept that idea a surprise.. i notice i am different tonight sitting in my brother in excess law, he's in New York, and it feels funny my sister is here too, she met some of my friends which as always been nice, but right now i feel finally calm thinking of it, but i had asked gently the castle of St-Henri to help me get away from my tree house for one night, to write and chill the fuck
out. Family is ... Family, hard to get away with it.

the next verse i leave you, found again from the past, this excavation drop right in my past show me how reality isn't yours to posses. the girl i love who in act of silences let me no script of her ending, well there is an introduction to it. but she left me enough clue to lead me into suspicions clear enough to justify my love and brighten up my heart, fasten it's rhythms to release it's red liquid well-defined feelings. if i were to blame you, i would be worry what if the judge with no mercy decide to frame your act over my heart and entitled you as the stabbing darling, the girl with eyes so sharp like cutting blade it wasn't enough to cut me out, alone.
of course i pushed inspiration so far and dreams comes true, but the real dreams are unpredictable, you decided to show me how deadly your love could be, forgetting this feeling is tender if we make it last together. you played me safe, pulling the trigger deep into my heart, your eyes loaded bullets you thought you could just shoot me through like a rocket lover, oblivious you expected me not to react , and there goes your mistake. how could one not see, when all he felt since the first look into her eyes was enough to enrapture his convulsive desire . hopes or wishes.

i doubt so, now that i am still awake everyday i wait, for twilight to take me inside my memories. and the meaning of feeling .. i give it to you, read but don't you dare to pretend that the meaning, it's feeling is any yours. some will say i have been punished by an obsessive i call it fate. if ever again i could replay the scene in which i have ever hold you. in my arms. but au contraire les souvenirs qui m'habite are the ones in which i am holding you with shiver in my bones, hold you in sensations the way fine blades will carve in stone. but you are no stone, crystal de ces vagues hankering for them to take me away. But promises . i would make sure never to amiss emotions, sensations they were meant to be yours.
i have found o so lucky a word to reveal the card of my destiny. presage au loin j'ai observee les soleils variable. i could, maybe should, but as for now even sweeter they predict my title to be the one of a pious lover.
yearn·ing (yûr'nĭng) Pronunciation Key
n. A persistent, often wistful or melancholy desire; a longing: a yearning for romance and adventure.
Je ne vous dois rien, mais ceci n'est qu'un appetizer for ce texte qui jamais n'arrivera a sa reelle destinee, bien-aimee...

elle s'en est tiree in leaving that bullet silver une condanation divine a l'amour qui ne saura mourir. a holy fucking lifetime, es una vita ... the bullet who had an anchor so strong as steel, making a love nest... lonely ness inside me.

you were there for me today... my love , i remember the name for ever. lucie

2007-10-30T11:12:00.000-07:00

is writing & lightning can hit me, incorruptible my heart abide by it's love ...

2007-10-29T21:53:00.000-07:00

really i should be writing the endless pages of fine lines of words,words again from my book, but that's boring after midnight even,no matter how your body et votre cervelle est fatigue, it' s better to let it go, then to read and copy so. i left my bed too early this morning on my way first to a new beginning, working. and the strengt it took me to resist the envy so crazy to come back home and play more with the words i adore. but i felt some kind of guilt for the man wanting me for company, so i left in a car with him, 35 seconds later i knew like stone i would not last the day. but how could i tell him, i felt bad, what do i say, sorry for leaving but it' s quite fucking boring the life you run, and not even worth the money i need to survive by wasting my time here with you '' i took him to the mont-royal pretending we could go and walk each our own side of the street and meet each other in a little while. so i walked acting my way until i saw the perfect gate to my serious escape, alley cat walking fast avoiding all the main road in case he would feel like following me. damn was i free again, thank goodness. i find it harder every time now to get back in the world of pretending, that you like to do the shit you care not for. i am an actress not a salestress. the whole day went by numb and awake, few words from out of me, i wrote all kinds all day, then my voice fading rusty sounds when Althea came back, it was then i realize i was the one needing a break, elsewhere with the friends that always make you feel o.k. i got save by familiar land, lady pirate behind the bar, smile at me and indeed the feeling is warm, and i sat a little shaky until music gave me the best smoothing shot, hit me with prayers, by the madonne. oldies have always been a savior key for the end of my day. after the visit of my sexy dawg, and miss may i felt o.k. to leave, in peace , well some kind of peace back home, while i can steal an hour alone in here. so quiet when i am alone here, and i like it. i can't take much, no more, music scares me if there is too loud of a chaos in notes .

''nothing compare to you '' last night at the very last hour before sunrise, usually the time i run in discipline under my blankets to find warmth and make sure i don't see the new day before this one is over. now i do need and like this fragment, mediane to slice them apart. even with an hour of sleep i feel better, but it doesn't last forever this strengt. i wish for times to appear giving me no other choice but to watch films and sleep. every time i go back to family it always begins with a dense, profond sommeil et une paresse a n'en plus finir. soon i'll be craving for something like that. soon.

later that night, i had been trying to get un extrait from the book just for fun, this craving for words i search the dictionary wanting better words, more special you know. but the fun went dropping fast with the arrival of thunder sister, and lord do i feel like i would rather be expatriate from my own tribe on a night like this, walking in towards me raging for what , for fucking food she gets given as a gift, for free, but o amazing she can walk better then me. more likely she is not busy with her dreams asleep. i know the feeling when you are swallowing constantly the taste of creation in your mouth , there is much fear to throw out. let go . what exactly are you scared off, the spit who could fall on your shirt, on your shoes. really, would you rather get some stranger drooling on your chest, or pasta sauce on your chin, then paint. paint is the only medium who will stay, and be remembered on another day ... i am up in my tower finally quiet again, but what i am seaking is peace, inside me . and i am getting sick so when the people's act around you gives the impressions that you shall follow the day on trial to see if true you o crime took more of what is brought then what you can provide. well my heart and trust and loyalty is priceless and so those inner weapons my friends should carry always aware that burning lava could be crawling to get you. and your ally with a belly empty will i bet defend the weak and fierce energy he has left to save his own ass. lord am i sounding so drastic and fatal, of course i forgive and know how to, but as much as my memory can be lacking lots of day, in the details i looked twice and it gets brood over in my mind quite easy. i am a little drastic but the place to be, feeling down against the wall with someone having the last word so easy on the verdict final of where you can stay. i need a home , i need to feel safe even when i am self auto drowning myself and the feeling to tell me i need to cover myself and not to count on my family... then life tough me to stay strong, stand for yourself, but the tristesse and souvenirs annoying to recall, they are the one to weakened the taste i could share and the joy i am able to act out when needed...

Thinen my love then i will turn into a raptor . starving still. so please don't go there. it's worth nothing but to loose the strengt you should use to express your dreams on canvas then maybe i might give your rage true respect.

choir of the st-hellvenly railays.

2007-10-28T22:35:00.000-07:00

tonight i am impress how well, and almos easy we manage to capture our dearest most unrevealed singer, the girl who believed in counting so much black sheep backwards through daylight, walking the alleyway would make her voice perfect in silences. she was just slightly wrong but that's not the point of the story, so let's just forget about the things to change. i have said before, i do not write good, but truth. well. maybe all of my midnight's angelic voices have vanished long already ago . so there is no light et vous ne verrez aucune faille dans cette histoire , seriously i saw it in my feelings, with a stetoscope pushed in my throath you can actually hear. god i wish you would be here to feel it. but ma ''girlfriends have slept away, the grande princess who could stand so well, awake and she might forget the children inside, but i adore the innocence she believes it dead maybe. ask her. run for her. so sad you have no clue how to be really a gentlemen, who cares if you are a man, gentle tiger you are not so secure when comes to moving arround her, and there is no way to impress her. it makes the struggles even better. if you are an ounce of what they call a lover. awareness you should try, but don't you get even a little excited. if you are willing to get closer and look into their eyes wanting a pretty fucktop playmate, o am i hoping for you will be right of a player. i . am the cryptic lover, who was meant for the best torture ever, a cult for the beloved who became water, strangely after a spell of mother fear of the muses . but we are childrens of the greatest navire de pirates qu'il n'est jamais existe, le gloomyhearted ship.
he did never sink really it was a slow process of melting, hard to believe but who the fuck are you to even think of it as surreal, we were there holding to the stars so high looking tenderly at our love, our home , fading away. how does it feel ! close your eyes , imagine .

''your heart loosing it's way''

if you sleep the feeling is quite nothing, it's in the dream awake maybe if lucky tu vas appercevoir les traits si fins du visage de ces enfants de choeur. when the ship vanished in deep sea, the blacksheeps were kind enough to feed the milk our little sister needed to spit it even further up the walls of the world they live in, injuste les murs se sont dresses au carre.
there is no infinite in this life they tried to make us believe in, it doesn't last. but i became so bored of every one so clear , their eyes so small i kept looking at the ocean, and on a fine full moon night i heard one of the most gentle voice ever.
the ghost of a siren dancing in front of me, awaiting for me to stand, like a man. how could i do such thing, i am no christ to walk magically on the water. she moved in semi-circles slowly towards me , and took my hand. the most gentle touch.
the princess of heaven next to her becomes a lie, so rough and sour taste. you don't understand, une sirene devant vous se dresse de noir, in black so suede a color you have seen that day for the first time. your eyes felt melting over beliefs, the way you sway in front of a mother you dare the lie , drop in the back of your eyes, on my knees close enough to be seen by the starving sharks. no one will see , she is too much precious for you not to see, the look in her eyes them feeling blue, compassion maybe for me, i knew she would let me be. we danced, to an opera de luxure si jolie, an answer in violin to the gods pervert watching, mad to see i was still there, holding on to the hope i would not loose this one and last dance with the one already i was devoted to. she moved her lips so close to me, i could hear her words, and they were gloomy but i could feel, breaking echoes loud enough in whispers letting me know it was an immortal spell.to last for ever. so i reacted fast, in the eyes begging her not to leave me forever, and somehow i grew up in my head so fast, the most precious smile for me, beautiful like the fine lines of a blade into your heart, flesh and solid like stone her intentions were not, to question, it's a curse on me, on her , on all of us .... and while my choir sisters had been still on the beach i took a second to turn and see i was not alone . alive. hurt and acknowledge of a flavor so sweet you wil crave it t'll your death..

no mercy for les enfants cheries. why would it be ainsi for us . why would it be easy. tell me so or fuck you i will tell you.

love becomes my pregnant murder. fatal l'amour qui nait se meurtrie si tot . my blood est d'un rouge velours, runs like a bullet silver, only a crazy lover will manage to pull the trigger.

so close to her i couldn't hear her say, i lost a lot that day in the winter. sorrows for me i saw the affection last feelings, i was doomed for a sntenced life as a choir boy unsinkable, i would dream for winters ad winters for the ice on water to grow thin so we would all press in time, drop the clock heavy on the glass you live in, doesn't matter it will not break until you can see the love we got given is inside, le coeur de crystal, ruby con deadly. and carve your name on the surface of my heart, so i will promise to be brave, and cherrish the twilight.

now. we are older, somekind of wiser, fearless are the kind of ugly chicken i refuse to eat even for diner, no flavours, and if you are a tresor seeker, you will dig, in days to find the precious. my friend there is more to this story, and i'm smiling because i am far from a fairy teller but i am careless of the result for now, all i know is to remember when to let go. after twilight comes the time where you can see, when the moon for our eyes only becomes a mirror reflecting your ocean lover. the one you agreed to be a prisoner away, like it never mattered she could do anything, to the depts of your sins and make you what, a favor she tought it would be easier to exist in lands away from each other. . . but love who she tought would be gentle when found again, broken appart in the end when i fall, le contour d emes emotions est intactes , i tried to be brave and never give up, but for that you have to fucking fight for your love not to fade, and for the memories to stay still you protected them with the look of a serial lover, blade in my eyes, you better be there if you make them cry on and over, stay.
you hold me not and i draw you into an enemy, worth l'oublie. je crois que j'y arriverai, a ne jamais laisser au courant s;effacer les marques de ton nom sur mon coeur je jure mio bella amore...

are you nuts, if she trusted her strenght to be used in all their senses just to stay under water, to breathe, to hide, to feel safe and to la mer she fed her lies. no matter how solid a heart, there i sno pierre precieuse pour restiter au courant.

les vagues t'emporterons.

dress up the truth

2007-10-28T19:19:00.000-07:00

ma soeur vous disiez

2007-10-27T09:26:00.000-07:00

'' all i need is love and a latte...'' by Althea Mamaril.. sous la pluie divine et des larmes de crocodiles finalement tombe.
il plet, et c'est tres bien ainsi .

lettre de reves rupture. pour moi seule

2007-10-27T00:11:00.000-07:00

derriere mes yeux j'ai sentie le verre se briser, en moi.

dear you... i was about to begin writing i do not have a clue what exactly on my blog, with many doubts it will sound that poetic or nice or why shall i even care . but i do. and i remember times from my past when romy would om eto teh bellamuse when i tried to quit drugs and there i sthis one time i will never forget , where i was lying in the gallery , the walls empty but inside of me there was my blood feeling dry, and the dryness starting to burn my emotions a little too much, that day i smoked in this room so much rocks t'll the life you use to carry is cracking like the vision of dream is fading. and don't know why exactly i had the guts to call the one who cared by then so fucking much for me, mostly she always carried a part in a heart i see when she looked at me with hopes i would live without it, without all the shit i run so easy too whenever i am craving for passion, o all the feelings so called beautiful even strangers will be triggered, and i. i handle myself, but i act like a fucking child who wants to grow the wrong backwards, a 26 yrs old me, feeling older then i am, feeling ready to die. i know i am not full of lies, far from it, because fuck sake i would write it all in a fire already burned down. it's hard sometimes when my efficient inner psychology helper gets in the portrait, pretty fast and not bad at confession, he holds a way , knowledges so pure and a strenght like a tiger to heal, not a key but the exact way to clean inside, this voice qui resonne trop fort dans ma tete whenever i fail under this headspace so heavy, frozen already i still pretend it's a comfort, doesnt mean it's a feeling. they. are lost, an di am found, alone. on a night like tonight, i am glad i stayed alone, i hat ebeing in crowds when i cant smile in my head, and i every words in my head i know already so far from th esounds of happy reggae. and miggan called since she wanted someone to appear at a party with people i tried for a second to communicate , and it took me a split one to know not every one i seven aware of how much one is eyes can hold so much. it's o.k. i force myself every time i do wrong to forgive and i pretend the regrets are invisible. and this is exactly the look into my eyes right now. i said to a girl long ago in an alley dark o fmontreal the day she told me she was leaving the city, and the ocean would remind her of me. i cried and told her, le cou d'une femme c'est un crystal precious, fragile, the kind of crystal you be careful not to brake. and now when i think of times going by, i saw her recently, still we talk friendly i am not bad at all for keeping and feeding the friendship i care for.
at least i am making an effort. but i remember the scene that night, and it was so intense, i fell under the moon maybe hopeful sh ewould spare me the pain, and i have a bad luck and a heavy heart, and let me spare you of the love i like to say was going to grow in a calm tornado with me. these days it feeds me empty or this rage i know does exist. the people i dream a little but i hear the lover talking like a fool he dared laughing at me, whispering for the time she said she loved you, like a tragedy i think nobody will love me the way she did. chances are the truth i felt in her eyes was hers but also the reflection of mine. it my heart was giving to a lie then it drives me even more crazy . it's duality all over , the hope resist, but the drastic makes it hard for me to do the radical i dream to change. change for ever. without loosing who i am . when i get so sober, by forcing the life outta me, it's slow and it gets so hard i am bored and sad looking, i feel then the shit i burned inside me. ... and what else... shut your fucking mouth already margo yo ucould have forced yourself to sleep, but these nights i lay in bed an dforce myself to be blind and no notice of my body he exist. and i feel it then the love is down there stable hungry at me, and my soul floathes in the air so close under clouds. i don't call them the dreams of my life .

Duras l'a dit et cette phrase je l'ai compris. un ecrivain seul c'est de la folie, car rien ne l'arrette. j'avais peur seule mais j'ai jamais fait un geste pour que quelqu'un ne vienne.

i'm happy . sad . going inside me . mother can we stop into the zoo. le zoo.

2007-10-24T01:29:00.000-07:00

dear time, i have been blessed well in my kind of church'n'blessing. after nights i saw my oldest friend and sister by now drinking and pulling out an act of inner evilry. and i had forgot why have we been so close from city to city. to the girl who just like me was born to grow a little crazy . i've develop this thing they call loyalty, and in the end she is hell-o-worth to stay arround so, to struggle with the tough nuts hard to crack up. and this one was somehow broken from the inside. so i have to be gentle. which i can do, cuz i dream about it to like no one knows.
tonight i played the good old chemistry specialist, and left for a midnight ride , long ride, and we have imagination better then any education... so much sweetness and emotion , drunken not, only we are not truly sober, but what really could it matter , i have seen it matter before, in love and in lost. and in the end, i have nothing to hide, or do because someone would wish me to.. i want to feel with people. and my sister tonight we went back into roots, the word we whispered in between euphoric art and beauty and pain and just straight damn bring it up, there is not much puzzle we together have no chance to solve. no au contraire when we reach harmony, it works. o so fine, it's tender listening still we are gonna end up in the zoo, but tonight it's not a sad sad zoo. trust . peace inside is a safe but alas the not so easy road to follow. but it will show you love traces inside of you the essence of pleasure, but also lost ... and you will keep going your way solid you know peace is another form of mental ejaculation, one that comes very naturally.

good god, i just took a look at one of my handwritten journals, thinking maybe i could start tonight more of that re-processing my past in proses, but to read and type and read re-type, is pretty boring when instead i could just move my fingers on the keyboard , i seriousely rarely think ahead of the next sentences, i don't hear it then oh, write it.. it's not a note reminder of what there might have been after,no no no it's called guts on paper 101, the class i took long ago. lifetime study and trust me i'm devoted like no one else.

an hour ago althea played a cd of amazing tando with female voices, old skool, she was dancing in movements who can only be born after emotions. and for the second time ever i did the spoken words sit-up performance... real long text and fucking hell i had picked the good one , even i was surprise os teh rythmns, words falling hard so soft .
of course it hit you so hard nights like this you feel fine, but althea and i are rare to miss an opportunity to pretend we could do more, create. stable. ( laugh ) ( laugh again the whole time i am silent ) stability runs strange with my blood, what i like is comfort an ddiscipline is teh best also the ardest . altough there is a voice in the back of my mind, lie the others she won't get away with it, down down .. the voice who's whispered strike always on how i could terribly stay solid, and face time, slowly going by, instead of playing speed illustrated life in a zine... fuck that, arn't you the one who know by the now, you don't fit in a zine, too fat .. . i could take it personally and say fuck you , not fat bt too deep . and details.

it's just another fact, simple i have too much words i need to break free somehow else i doubt it would be healthy ..

portishead playing ( i can mention it's so much past . )

in october i know the sun is still asleep at 6'08 ... if he comes up too bright, althea and i have decided to throw some breakfast fine cuisine at him...

we went to play in the zoo, i can't tell you about it, secret for isomniak. get to know me and we'll see.

i'll write you a note another day .. long note.

soirs de pluie ne m'accorde pas l'oublie.

2007-10-23T17:00:00.000-07:00

just now again the souvenir of you rest inside me , an di obsessively look at it...
what if .. you think the same thing at the same time. when we sleep and feel better .
i want you to... i want to see you when you are arround. .

you are gone. but not erased. ink. mark my words, ink. willl live , even when i get rid of the body , ink stays.
i am in love with rain, i let it soaked t'll it gets to the bones. teh rain is so small, only when you fall in sea, teh story of my love will looked so god damn empty. o heavenly wil i die before my love.
i don't create perfect lies, certainly not for someone like you .

''Sors-tu du gouffre noir ou descends-tu des astres?
Le Destin charmé suit tes jupons comme un chien;
Tu sèmes au hasard la joie et les désastres,
Et tu gouvernes tout et ne réponds de rien.
Tu marches sur des morts, Beauté, dont tu te moques;
De tes bijoux l'Horreur n'est pas le moins charmant,
Et le Meurtre, parmi tes plus chères breloques,
Sur ton ventre orgueilleux danse amoureusement. ''

these are obviously words from another, one that painted often my dreams with words that are only beauty.
i finally and hopefully came back for the last time, toronto behind it feels just fine. i tried to explained why does even days so triste in the end i feel good in montreal, the comfort surrounding me in streets empty, it never is empty no matter how lost one can be. there is no feeling being sranger to me. outside is looking closer to the way it should, fall. rain fall and wind moves faster then i do. i have lost the aggresive me when i ride my bike, i find myself in slow motion, people passing me by but it doesn't matter anymore. as long as my eyes can see, streets in my city by day always makes me look like i'm on drugs, i can't stop looking at every person arround me , in case i would know them. just to see. home sweet home , so small but o lucky my mind is wide enough to host my heart , blood runs. alive . far from dead.

attention have left me . you can call it a.d.d. or am i lacking words, i doubt so. it's funny i find my handwriting better then any of the shit in here, i keep it for my book, but i'm acting a little to carefull for the web, why should i care. because i get hard on myself, demanding. finding my words not intense enough, common it's not like i need to be falling under graves just to tell you how deep and dark it is. what if i tell you how sunny my lolly day has been . not. then the audience of ghost and beautiful strangers would possibly be suspicious of me. if really you think i hang out lots with misery then we will probably never meet ouside on a same kind of night, i visit the space in nights when you are sleeping, i do less, since mostly i like to remember my deams awake. so early tonight , my heart is slow an di do feel it, even drugs would not affect me, he's floathing in his own little ocean , slow waves t'll midnight, then i am the one by mistake creating a storm for him to beat it , through. t'll morning rise for him to grow tender again. tender, makes me hungry, but i am not hungry in my mouth, only in my mind.

shut me, remembering only pain will never be better then anything, it's just a way we have to pronounce verdict louder. but i want pleasure that feels true, sex is meaningless right now, i want sweetness deep ,wise enough to fade your fears, transparence away . i want tears in my cereal when i awake, and once they will appear. and it's gonna be just what i have been craving for. fine release cuisine .
i saw my body running chased by something else it wasn't beauty. i ran faster, like a monster, like a monster lover.

silences for now. i'll save the twirl fast moving i saw in the distance, i am good at instinctive predilection. it's never a bad thing to do handwriting, more... beautiful.

la suite ... baudelaire a un jour ecri, peut-etre aussi a force de regarder l'ennui on decouvre si tot que la pensee, meme obsedee est bien meilleure amante, lovely when my eyes you tought them open, wrong i can look straight, but all i saw comes from the past i recreated my way .

''Que tu viennes du ciel ou de l'enfer, qu'importe,
Ô Beauté! monstre énorme, effrayant, ingénu!
Si ton oeil, ton souris, ton pied, m'ouvrent la porte
D'un Infini que j'aime et n'ai jamais connu?''

vous voyez, ses ecrits plus tendre dans ma vie , que ces foutue jours de pluie glacee, longue heures je n'ai rien a regreter .

i am too lazy to read my test for another time to correct the mistakes there could be .

2007-10-18T09:09:00.000-07:00

love is the only blood i'll let my life be fluid... ( and my body futile )

2007-10-17T16:30:00.000-07:00

this text will be long, truly long and explainning in the end. for now sad but true i only have a few seconds to say .
the more i see gone the day , it reflects like a sharp knife i don't even feel the pain. i have been diving into my past in words of love and romance to realize what is. who really i feel towards, and who i respect like i don't even respect reality compare to you Cuz i feel it when you are down, and i would liike to go even a little lower just to get there on time . the clouds you could trust enough to let yourself fall endlessly.
falling i have been low enough to spare time rebuilding the lather road strong metal you climb and please come up, on the surface where our feelings are shinning red and black we could melt the world . is white and lazy compare to the colors i see when you ride across my mind..

i will be clearer then ever . later . like crystal. you are beyong any diamonds. you remind me of how childrens get so happy in their smile when they reach the ocean ... the sea inside me is about to change it's colors.
i never lied to my own heart . it's a crime to die without it. and maybe in the end, honesty will trick the story meant to be fairy, who grew real enough for me to face the murdereded love i claimed so crazy how much i wanted the water to stay dark. the colors were always black. and there is days when i get thirsty insane and i get scroll back memory of the liquid feeling so pure, the kind of blue you open your eyes and nothing burns, the sea so sweet no salt . no more. i am not that cheerful because the conclusion created is different but none the less fatale. you still know only when your heart beat slow, is when you start breathing this ocean of love, you rest and there is nothing left to be felt but the love you injected yourself with. i shall say a better ending then the night you slept and cheated your own life with heroine.

it's hard to explain here , right now the way i saw it in my eyes, the way you came back, maybe to show me more sense, maybe to help in the redemption, making sure i don't spare another 8 fucking years beleiving in the feelings born to become empty. i am the one who decided long ago that my cancer was this feeling they call empty... and i looked so fiercely at life, to let her know she is not the one who will take me away the way she took my mother away , i will be the one to create the path , and as a lover only will i go back to her . but not now, i am not done dreaming, i am not done alone. nothing is over if there is still a love i have not written out of me without a single lies....

stay keen my little turtle grise. that's what you get for walking steady in the dust .

2007-10-13T19:14:00.000-07:00

work as a friend to spy on where maybe exist this space where so gently you will let me go on my knees , never dominer but to honor those who inspire me,(aside) the memory lane pregnant which means so far the rails no one have rode through, one thing i can do is to polish the metal lisse because you know history will be traced by the motion to come. when traintramp is aware and knows the care he’ll put on those metal structures there to make sure for passengers to go all through the days , overriding is like overwriting our history. nothing completely to erase but it’s in the details that i wish to find a way to draw memory moving entrelacees avec le passe. quelquefois ce sont les lignes d’un coeur brise.
il y a plus que ca dans tout ca, mais quand je regarde l’expression dans tes yeux, tout ton visage je m’appercois combien troublee de facon si claire se dresse ton passe, au present, seulement on se tient si fort et s’acharne protecteur de son etre, les pires ce sont ceux qui osent s’acharner sur le coeur. we are not made of stone.et quand je dis troublee i mean maybe they are steady holding so much feelings locked together it creates an almost perfect illusion of a broken glass on a fogy night, you cannot see every feelings in beneath but there is light sharply going through. this is when i loose my attention to them.. it takes a hell of discipline and will to stand so solid even when your eyes are made of peices broken still. you must think i am insane to write beyond the casual conversation and to talk shit i am not a part of.

we are not stone, but fragile...

but i should tell you , i take the risk, in words only it leaves you times to read it slowly, and i let you know my reasons why are honest i do not know of anything that lay in beneath your eyes, but i am sometimes vulnerable and i listen that way , the details you let go are driven by emotions, the way your voices reflects passion, and your heart maybe someone else could be tricked but i feel it like a snowfalls , pure and drowning heavy until this reality gets covered completely ... to let you remember twilight is to awaken the dreamers. the dreamer in you i doubt he was fed up enough to spend a whole winter in a cave frozen inside, you gotta keep him warm and moving even when the steps he's going for are not secure, you know the song, ''walking on thin ice''' you can because you have this thing i also have it in me , do you know how brave you appear to me , no matter what certain people are convinced they should let their reasons lead their actions. and i say there is fucking nothing wrong with being wrong, with failing or loosing, but the heart creates life's feelings and if we let the love inside ourselves a little more chances to breathe deeply. then we shouldn't fear for our sharp weakness, will be protected by the trust you give in truth to the way you feel , a fleur de peau les emotions deviennent lames qui gardent son coeur. en d'elegant courants se devoile son mouvement.

feeling more then worth the risk, i am telling you the story in which i dig to let go only what now i believe in. you should know you are allowed any words towards my way, because i gave you my trust and loyalty before you even asked for it. .
strangely last night to talk to shawnda made me realize a bunch of what i'm saying now, i'd rather be more then true, and to follow my instincts behing emotional i refuse to let it grow a denial, cuz i know my time would be lost with regrets..
i'd rather be amaze by my friends who leaves me with unknown then not to give the love i have left fading slowly towards the ones i have found , preciously. i try as i can to move in words i write aware at anytime one of these blades could cut me, but it comes in me very naturally , the fear i swallow in is never the one to create knots inside my chest, it's for my eyes to show you trust , risk is almost easy cuz i have nothing to loose but to loose getting to know you better, forwards the day. in slow motion steady...

note au lecteur, les mots sont nombreux et souvent vite je change, pourrais commencer un roman ... but i tried to let go without thinking much before i do so.. be gentle if you feel like sparing me, i had no vil in writtig this letter... . . .
only i know it's been a while i havnt written what i think by instincts, to someone i should show more patience .. in words.

en ces mots qui semblent si nombreux mais je suis la route de mes jours se dessine demblable au trait du batements d emon coeur , devant tes yeux j'espere tout de meme qu'ils sont a peine reveillees. les couleurs changent inside of me, and their meanings also..
le gris tombe a l'envers mais surtout pas d'ennuie, plutot loin de l'ennuie... pour l'instant j'essaie comme jamais je n'ai eue le courage, de rester tortue.... and don't tell me there is anything wrong with the way turtles walks.
don't tell me . and please don't step on me. it's not easy for me to crawl gently and so slowly. but you know it gives you lotsa time to see.... it's in the details only that i have seen what i am looking for.

i don't need the stars...

2007-10-12T20:48:00.000-07:00

not for tonight in fact my family est partie en cavale danser sur des sons trop electro pour mon cerveau ce soir. this comfort you reach even at a friend's house and you're careless of what ever you would miss in a party screaming , but never on top of the music at people you might as well just keep your saliva for yourself so easy to loose control and then a mouth could dry, in a second. i guess i sound selfish, maybe i am , maybe i should give my presence in heart and bones to the party . but it's a party like i have seen millions, and what i lack in my daydreams is people to get close to me, people to laugh stupidly or cry to me randomly, the message is simple , hold me. but i am a writer, alone et c'est dur de s'en faufiller. i can think it out loud, only le souvenir de mes amours decus to remind me how good it felt to release it all in your arms, like before i might have died, in memories even do i forget if it' s true i let go . St-henri, we got here in the morning, last chance for me to hear you sing ;'just call me angel of the morning'' and the day obviously to be endless, you forgot to sleep and to leave the day behind, deep under pillows. o so invincible like there is nothing waiting for you to rest, to give you a rest.

i do actually think it suits me better to play housewife, for the grown-up kids i love in St-henri, too much feelings predilection in the stars, the last time i needed them to let me know i feel home here in my heart, in my eyes.. it's lonely but it's my home . i try to welcome the ones i care to stay and to the rest of the world i say, find me cuz i have no more envy to chase you arround intensely i am a lover not some drooling predators, and i refuse to see you captive, i wish our eyes when closing late would remember in the perfect darkness the way to dance. like the way we pretend to . i will wait , cuz as much as i can predict the feeling there was left to be keeping in a second i ate it all and now i am starving. but starving persona, would rather keep her belly empty then to step on the presence of the one you know and trust. dishonesty is a friendly disease and i am a healthy created pharmaceutically kind of boy i need respect and then you could lead so i follow your steps in the sands or falling road i will see you de suite. i have not learn so carefully how to step away thinking i coul dtake it all or nothing... but nothing is pretty much empty, and you know i woul dmake my ownself grow sick rather then to feel sweet nothing.

so we stayed up all day long, and i had the tools for it. making sure to keep our farms pretty alive for at least daylight i took it my responsibility.. i remember like crystal clear the letter i wrote so fast full of everything that was suppose to be floathing still for a while, no more i have this way to lay it out raw, in details but raw. lettre a un ami que l'on voudrait serrer dans ses bras. i do . wanna hold you , but just to ask makes me scared. some would disagree like the still standing solid human made of beautiful lies, to stay cold you don't ever need someone. but i am lands away from iceland, i would lay my body naked still on mirrored ice to let you see i can melt it, make it a little warmer. but it has not been easy for me to read your eyes when your words are keeping me docile at the perfect lines, invinsible line i am brave enough to show you i would take a step your way through any rain let it fall over me. i wish i could show you all i think i know of consistance, stay solid when everybody ran away seeing the lightning coming our way, but i have nowhere to dream that feels better, i'd rather stay and if you want me close and aware, in the distance i'll stand by you . i feel it now more slowly when the feelings i grow could be un-leashed, but somehow it matters not much, i would love to fight for what i want, but i got beaten inside it's hard to tell the scars are under skins, where my emotions are the ones to fill-in. where the lost o ftrust begin, i trust you in everylight i dare you to look up. proud, but i am giving up by healing what doesn;t even hurt no more, but it makes you scared the twist inside your stomach , the pain sharp in it fills in so quick when you ge pushed in refusal. and sadly it's not even a matter of confidence, i know on what my love could become, but i keep it undone, in case someone would take it away and open my heart gently the paper silver arround is broken already but precious surrounding my identity, i'd rather keep the peices with me even breaked away. the way i feel is visible right now i see myself from the outside so i can help to create again this easy puzzle, easy because i explain it this way.

later . the music i play is nothing like you would imagine, seeing me. , but i am starving melody, and my eyes just just now are sick of melancholy, looking lost, and there is no way i could focus.. that thing they call e... . .. emotionnal . and confessions are indeed easy to get outta me, even the night has forgotten the walls arround to hide the way i look, when i taste ferocely the sweetest of my sin, my inner desires there sentence has not fallen yet. does it means i am still free.

les mots d'un autre...

2007-10-10T18:04:00.001-07:00

Harmonie du soir
Voici venir les temps où vibrant sur sa tige
Chaque fleur s'évapore ainsi qu'un encensoir;
Les sons et les parfums tournent dans l'air du soir;
Valse mélancolique et langoureux vertige!
Chaque fleur s'évapore ainsi qu'un encensoir;
Le violon frémit comme un coeur qu'on afflige;
Valse mélancolique et langoureux vertige!
Le ciel est triste et beau comme un grand reposoir.
Le violon frémit comme un coeur qu'on afflige,
Un coeur tendre, qui hait le néant vaste et noir!
Le ciel est triste et beau comme un grand reposoir;
Le soleil s'est noyé dans son sang qui se fige.
Un coeur tendre, qui hait le néant vaste et noir,
Du passé lumineux recueille tout vestige!
Le soleil s'est noyé dans son sang qui se fige...
Ton souvenir en moi luit comme un ostensoir!
— Charles Baudelaire

extract

2007-10-10T17:32:00.000-07:00

Charles Baudelaire: "Romanticism is precisely situated neither in choice of subject nor exact truth, but in a way of feeling."

en cette nuit je debute ce qui va s’averer un automne of searching in between all the words i have left behind me. and o trust me it’ll keep on going t’ll christmas rings me back to reality. i don’t plan on a bumpy road, i see it smooth and chaotic, the way i need it for now. writing and somedays i have to remind myself that i need money therefore i should work, but this summer has been the first ever to let me free at the end with a certain light disability to get back into my old life in the city. i rode my bike downtown today and my nervous system feels pretty fragile. like my heart, like my eyes, only they still see me as a strong standing warrior. but you know for now i am forcing to winter sleep all of me that use to run and fight and be aggressive in order to get wherever my dreams were standing. but i am a writer for now, a lover incarceree au prises avec les muses de son passe. ma sentence va tomber , i will be the first one to see it falling in front of my eyes, i am not a criminal for judges to lay their sentences, only my prison is the reality i am sentenced to see everyday, and how truly you tell me a serial lover should be able to breathe slowly. it’s the lack of intensity , the release in daylight of what my dreams becomes with twilight. it’s all you can’t see in my eyes because i cried inside and outside the coldness is heavy on me so they freezes. emotions they freezes when i look in the streets and i smiled at you hoping for a feeling. but i welcome you to a land where the crazy lovers are doomed to act in a play with absence of duality .i predict a story of tragedy.

une histoire si belle, tragique.

i am feeling good inside the tree house i am building with an old friend with whom i am always amaze we live in true black comfort together now. her name; Althea.
i’m finally celebrating the tool i was awaiting for ever, the keyboard i can hit all night long, fast and focus. but tonight there is no rush, i let it come to me. soon i am gonna start to dig my past and keep what i always kept anyway... the loves i keep alive.
people and i have some kind of a different way to perceive the dramatics of their endings, for me there will be no ending, only one way to go, and this is where no one knows. i shall let go one day of my life, but i’ll never let go of my loves. it’s a way to be true to my heart, loyal but mostly it’s my way to make it endless. i thought and felt so much in me provoquer by the memory lanes that in the end i am way too fucking amaze by how it created me, affected and written on my body, to forget is to defeat so easy, come on i am willing to put in my own life as the price to pay , for love can be eternity.
it’s in the way i try to create harmony with pain, pleasure,, desires and lost, that i feel the love i hold in growing still insanely even with the worst bullet there could have been pulled at me, the feeling they call ‘empty’ .

science is the kind of reality to tell you empty is o so full of everything, my kind of empty is what will drive me beyond crazy, it’s me loosing control of my body, of my mind and my heart. when i leave my future unknown is nothing compare to when i look in my mind and see the color is white, nothing pure but empty of feelings, empty of words or motions. empty you have left it right there for me to see.

for now these are all the words i'll let go free. i told you i have sentenced myself . i let go of your prison. but i will draw you for later the wires are sharp and tight arround my heart in circles to stay.

lady in red

2007-10-06T21:03:00.000-07:00

........ passion needs patience.....
the feelings i have left for you i refuse to let go
your silences inside me are sounds of melancholy
si mon regard condamnee a ne plus jamais se confondre en toi
il existe en mes reves un ocean noir, profond..
l'ou mon coeur s'eteindra, cet amourj'emporte avec moi.
a jamais. ''

the title in big letter... serenade tragique

later, aftre what could have been an hour i just can't remember. why would i... i am starting to love the sounds my dear erin makes, sewing machine in broken ride of midnight production. sh elet me stay, somekind of silent body with a mind so add i search the screen for all i can take really on love's history, the drama it's all shit in the end, i can't even find a true revelation, what do i care about wikipedia's definition of passion, words tell you only so much, the best and deepest is when comes the feeling, stronger then drugs, le syndrome de l'amour cingle est d'autant plus stable. stays and stays, even when you go down it follows you deep..

i have stopped my words for a moment, and later i sit back, and o music, all i could think of was this simple song i wanna hear, and i realize that the hours i just spend reading loving theory and whatever other bullshit story is nothing compare to how i feel when i listen to this song, the way words are moved together . i am lost but then remember it happens in dreams you can't keep or truth when the day turns into twilight and you are king in the arms of the girl you look at begging her to lay on you the spell you craved for... hungry for lust. images in movements intertwined.. i do not like that word but for now it's all i got.. i am still french.
fuck i love music, but if you intend to keep on reading my toughts, you have to hear tonight's melody of my heart.
ladies and gentlemens my time is over. no more playing on the computer. children go to bed. but i can't i am too scared. i'd rather hang in there.
here goes my song....
''I've never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight
I've never seen you shine so bright
I've never seen so many men ask you if you wanted to dance
They're looking for a little romance, given half a chance
I have never seen that dress you're wearing
Or the highlights in your head that catch your eyes I have been blind
The lady in red is dancing with me cheek to cheek
There's nobody here, it's just you and me, It's where I wanna be
But I hardly know this beauty by my side
I'll never for get, the way you look tonight

I've never seen you looking so gorgeous as you did tonight
I've never seen you shine so bright you were amazing
I've never seen so many people want to be there by your side
And when you turned to me and smiled, It took my breath away
I have never had such a feeling
Such a feeling of complete and utter love, as I do tonight

The way you look tonight
I never will forget, the way you look tonight
The lady in red
The lady in red
The lady in red
My lady in red (I love you.) '''

i tought the next girl i go on a date with i should play her that song, and if she can handle that, she can have me.
a sigh mais quel tristesse s'arrette ici ce qui aurait pu s'averer une avalanches de mots.. but my time has been counted, and in within a couple seconds i'll be history... it's four thirty and the sand man is fucking pissed at me.... seriously .

the loveliest pain in my heart i let you be.

2007-10-04T20:16:00.000-07:00

i am not always that serious , but i am trying to set up my life so i can lock myself in and rewrite, write more.. my brain is heavy .. internet home is there but no computer . and soon it will be cold as hell in our castle house of tree in the mile end.. gain money, spend money. bought a cd, first time in ages. pj's new style, piano and darkness at it's finest. i miss a certain street in minneapolis, and a certain dream house in east vancouver, a friend here and there. i crave the return of my love only in dreams i envy the story because truly it is not any real around me. when i am. awake. i was talking to a friend tonight about sadness and the days endless you feel absent of all you did before, the possibility you know from the past. and this sadness affect me less and less, i feel it but i'd rather have my heart feel then my mind sometimes. break it or knock the sweet nails through it's broken shape i don't care i remember like if it was there forever how much my love i need to feel it under my tongue, bitter sweet senses but lately my mouth is dry, way too dry. i do work a little but i am so calm about the pictures i see, the people who needs to deal with me , i make little effort, give them what they expected but i only paint my nails religiously, valentine red is the only color for me. i dress up for no one lately. i wrote about jail and i say i do not mind to sentenced to a silver cell and i could die only if they forget to throw me paper, ink and feather so i build a nest in my eyes after staring the walls empty they turned in mirror to reflect my obsessions and desires. the rest can fuck off. i have not much to say tonight, and i would sound pretty insane if i would mention the girl i will adore and therefore i intend to die for.. not for as in for her, because she cares nor, but in the name of this feeling who as grown into my spine and my blood runs down to the color turned into water , black.. you heard i said the ocean black. no more words, for no one but me. the dream of knowing you again once more is not acting easy on me, it's hunting and last week walking the streets of my little city i saw you walking, and my inside is still shaking. and i tried but doubt the feelings will ever stop , they hurt and this is a malady of love i refuse to heal. fuck it literally i started last summer to write about death. and my life needs to reflect what i love, and i also love tragedy, to read and look at it in sinematic eyes is never gonna be enough. have you ever wrote your own death, it makes it easy and so far seduce me. not the way you use too.

i came back to the computer to change from jail words my title to an almost inapropriate one. but the one i set in is perfect to reflect the color inside me ..
i do not sleep enough. it's never truly healthy to dream in the past or the future you'll never see it real. but no one is never always healthy. my mom was sick, and i am alive and sick. the body is a good masquerade sometimes to hide your heart .
i acted my days lately half way.. i mightdo better , only it's hard to know with winter coming. soon. .

apology

2007-09-11T17:06:00.000-07:00

i have words and words to write ,but 20 seconds on th einternet .. so i shall truly say i apologize for not having the time to correct or write more ..
my head is boiling, but i need my whole life to be moving ... faster but surely in the direction that suits my destiny

' nights in the city i use to spit but now i bite my own toungue'

2007-09-06T01:06:00.000-07:00

now. days of sleeping, food, lazyness at it's best and family reunion, wonderfull but i need to crave something, and there i get feed way too much. so i left ...
i was so bitter for the last moments in this cold city i left so fast . but you can't let go of the people you know, the few that got through you so you come back, for a short moment only. i dream of appearing my heart and body 21 hours away from here. to see you , your last words i barely heard like people talking fast but sweet like time will slip in between our hands, and voices travelling it's never enough of a feeling in riding a copper wire i want you to hide me, like a secret no one truly knows i exist and my identity is tattooed on my skin you cannot kill me so easily, because then people will know. i can only be missing for so long back where i say i belong.
my last times in montreal were nervous, shaky, i was a stranger and all this because i forgot to breathe the way i told myself i would do so. i fucking forgot. and time let you see the past history i got plenty of time quick to study, and i am still a hell of a goo dstudent when comes to the speed i let my brain go to . there was no reasons for me to wait longer , i needed again to go further away to create my destiny....

later . i did not publish this post on time. at 7 in the morning i always wait a little longer. never always can you trust your hands when your eyes are looking numb.
but we are day light, i learned yesterday the last peice of technology i had is no more, some fuckers got rid of it without a words, or sold maybe, they can lick me where i pee, i took th escreen and threw it in the air, lovely the sounds when shit breaks. now i get back to what secretly i adore, old school. i have a bag , pen and paper and still bits of my heart and a ticket to america, they say the dream begins. i dream only of peace, and i would like to feel that way even when i'm not alone, i want a rooftop and more rain then one can take. and i wan tto be unknown by the system...see i told you before i am a hopeless romantic dreamer.
jonathan last night told me ; margo people and there choices, life is 2+2=4 i fyou fuck up you pay fo rit , you play too hard with your brain and body and you could even die.
then margo he told me your life is 2+2=3 only 3, you are so lucky if someone would do the calcul clear you would be i jail already , now you are still free.
you got it, maestro, free my own way , never easy even when i look so smooth .
maybe the ones i worship were still drunk when they wrote long ago their toughts, and i follow in style the road is never straight , it's just fine that way .
i have flushed away the lost of material, even th ebed i use to sleep in , gone. leave me alone, i hate to carry it all, i would carry a friend even my dog before the weight of all i use to be , surrounded with .. it made me sick, now i should go, i knowa place i have never seen before under a bridge where i can look at the stranger in the water , i reflect .

i reflect

fast car

2007-08-21T17:24:00.000-07:00

i dream of a fast car an dthe friends arround me are there but reminding me i need to go, and i am scared to end up alone in the middle of the highway and i don't want to entertain some guy random holding a wheel looking sideway at me. i want someone else then all the people in this city to look at me. you mentioned rooftops and then you do not know how easy i dream of escape, and i know many ways to run away so fast from the reality i get surrounded with. a fast cat who needs a fast car. but it might not happen and then i'll be lost in my hometown with nothing else then the music i like to comfort me and the book are filled already maybe a sign to tell me i have to look carefully into my past in all the details i draw a long ago, and choose the high and low worth telling to strangers like a midnight story , they say i have a way to show you hope even drowning in the dark holes i fell often. but i get out and i do love sunshine, and lately i have been writing, walking, talking even slowly, and the hopes have been hiding inside me , drugged by hours everything feels like a slow motion replay of what i've seen already, the scene i'd rather fall asleep watching my own movie. and that's killing me, so i am gonna change the peoples, the landscapes, the city once again, and tricking my own self this time again by leaving so far with no ticket to come back. no house awaiting me or no one specially. i sound like a lost dog wandering in alley all night long looking cute in case someone would invite me to become their cuddling buddy. and i smile thinking of a lot of kids dreaming fiercely of a job, a school to ride into, and o sing me lullaby i don't need to gain my life i already have it. but what i want is someone to play with, remember the kids left alone for so long they grow up trapped inside their heart and dreaming for breaking.
words are over ... cuz it really does not matter for tonight .

all i care for is you and you and words.

2007-08-19T21:08:00.000-07:00

seriously .. there is days when you get confused or indeed waste time thinking of what you can do next, career. jobs,studies. well most of those i wanna do are just not here for now. and then at the end of the day when i end up somewhere so tired, and manage to sit in front of my book or another new computer, all i wanna do s write ,and i can't call it only fun, it's a necessity, some exercise without it you go crazy , the body needs rest but my head can only go to sleep once it has been dumping several words out of it . i partied hard in hochelaga last night , more like the last 50 hours or so, less food or what you can swallow in, but after a while your muscles and organs are going low, and i left today after 5 hours of sleep dieu merci. to go west again, st-henri and the rest was short but delightful, spending time one on one by the river with a new friend, another one to tell me they like it actually when i bring back so sharply the feeling of love, hope . and we talked about surrender, the perfect word and most insane challenge you can only struggle through. for a moment i had forgot the pain inside me, the teeth that use to be filled with stained blood in the morning were gone back to an honest smile i could deliver once again. by the river with a beer and cigarettes we talked for a while. it's funny when you end up having the same kind of conversations with many people, deep into the world around you and the spiritual quest some follow and some don't even know, and all it's o.k. to follow what works for you. she told me her life was going to be full inside if she kept on learning always , which tells me back with no doubt actually she will be a perfect strong woman able to point out the bad , and help the ugly to show the world that what you should really find out about people is the feelings floating inside their soul. the magic will come and you will find others just like you there is beauty all over us but whatever is kept empty, kept unfed will rot eventually. i like the image in my mind just now, the difference between a man looking so fancy dress in versace who alone still manage to treat the world around him just like shit , because he hasn't even thought about it .. those species are the usual one i tend to see shortly in downtown somedays hey make me go away . i go away and ride until i find a place hiding behind a factory near by the train track, with grass trying to break in between the rocks and noise further, nobody else but me facing the dead paysage in front of my eyes, steel structure rusted and broken bones of what could have been century ago a castle for hobos, and i'm glad for a bit i get to see it, and i know everywhere i go there will be broken pictures, but i least they welcome me in serenity hard to describe and i know for sure these land looking almost dead have been through so much history it's a lifetime glory. and to be honest i think i'd rather run my life fast then slowly then fast again, through all that rain out and inside me, you never know when the structure will start to break in so slowly and i still am far from so good taking care of the only thing that will ever carry me through insanity . i feel lucky after wise that the bricks are falling right on me, i get bruises but fucking don't ask me why but at the end of the day i still find a way to look at it and never i can hold on to regrets, it's worthless. i will fight to the price of loosing my life maybe one day , and what i have and intend to keep alive is my freedom, and tonight even you were lovely by the water to remind me that the one and only place worth really to be free is in my soul, in my dreams, the ones to draw for me to see reality. and remember if one day i get shot down an alley, or thrown in jail for my what so thievery even if anyone tells you hey oh they got margo capture or hey oh they kill the poor girl down the highway . you are a fool to dare believing any story told about me from an outside source, i am the one who decide when it's over , i choose to live where i wanna live, and my mind no one is ever gonna take over and control it's way. if i die then it's a fucking lie because i never choose so.
for some it is harder, because we want to go further, and i realize talking to you we were right that one crazy new age type of urban monk ride to follow is to surrender of anything that could possibly take over the lightness you adore when you ride in the streets late at night in the city when it sleeps not so carefully, it's sometimes more of a battlefield in the daytime, so i hide now and then but when the moon sets herself then i feel like i can find myself and the breathing of my heart is gone back to a peacefull drop into water . and i will soon escape my city again, like a runaway who hasn't done so much wrong in the outside world, but i get distracted way too easily by the addictions i know by heart in the city so i will be away for who knows how long, but this time i will not be back for a lack of money since even there i am stubborn and will not work for any job unless it's somehow showing me intensity. boring has become a word from evil. a place you don't wanna be.
for real to be honest i don't care now about where i wanna be. but i wanna be with someone late at night , someone to keep me in their bad, so warm and for more then one night, someone who will stand there in pissing rain kissing me, standing there until we grow together the love i use to let go easily like an open scars poring slowly. i need to stay patience and wait because i find it boring when i see love without passion. and i will distract myself until i find you there . in a land without any name, where we define the space we wanna invade ..

i am the killer inside me ..

2007-08-17T11:46:00.000-07:00

a ce jour je vous dis, il le faut bien.. faire ce qu'on doit de faire quant tout l'interieur se seche et mes levres aussi. pour un seul instant c'est possible mais c'est de la folie quand le temps n'est plus. and when the days are getting long enough to hold in you more then a clockwise round trip. you need react. la reaction se fait car mon instinct ne meurt jamais, ne dors que tres peu. reagit dieu fucking merci juste au beau moment .. but always standing at the edge of myself, in balance walking on such thin lines between this moment i fear most when you see my eyes are looking scared in the daylight. i feel low. but i still write clearly for me, even my voice today would tell you everything is not the same. i came back so fast in the city i say o adore, but this time the fortune teller had seen me right, telling me i for once after walking almost free in broken glass wonder why my feets are fucked already. but this time she told me i would do what ever it takes in order to let go of a part of me i have kept so close even tough i knew how risky it will always be. and i don't want it anymore. i can't take it, days i wanna hide are days worst then jail because i am the only one judge of what i do to me. it sounds so brave when i tell you i fear not even to be trapped in a cage, so i could write and no one alive will take my life away... but i may be the lover, i knew since long ago we are made of archetypes and i am also inside somewhere the killer. i look severe in my eyes profound but don't ever be scared i would never hurt you, the only one i ever run to hurt her so is called my most precious shadow. the lover is not as solid as i could.
be.
still. hesitant. older. hurt. by dreams gone lost. i am . not dead. only.
i need to be faster at running away from myself, or else even better i should turn around to look inside my eyes they reflect all of me and if i could close down, face down and kill you murderer. strangle you t'll i can breathe again and leave you behind with the snakes that you always invite even tough you know how scared i am of them crawling in my skin.

romy made me remember the day i saw the letters so solid black on white .

love leaves it's abuser...

and if i stay then i am never gonna make it running everyday, there is no exit when the roads are circles infinite, the way cats gone crazy are running for their tails.
i do have an end, just before is the limit, and even tough i am a children belonging to the sea, it's not gonna help me to dry the life i have left there just for me.
it's intense when i write down alone in a cave, in a bed i don't even know but got told i could go, simple words i care less i am not here to give you poetry, i am trying to protect so carefully the broken feeling inside of me. le coeur.when it's over then it's over. and you do not always choose the memories crossing lines for you to see, the body when it dries is exactly like my mother's.
even blind i would have remember, life comes and go even when you are not done the play. only i should know i am still more lucky then those who would like to see me.
even dead she still care enough to come in words to remind me, she never would have raised me to become my inner murderer.

no matter how much i know i have to make it on my own. i am feeling fragile and confessing becomes easier this way. i still dream of one day someone will love and remind me passion was worth being patient and maybe she'll even help me with her hands gently to release the nervosity that runs always inside my belly.

you cannot go back, but a part of me can die so the child could see just once again. i am gone mad enough to try harder then what my life have showed me already.

look ..

2007-07-29T12:54:00.000-07:00

i saw it on your chest , and i cutted slowly the letters, et puis comme ca le chat .. est apparu.

2007-07-26T16:06:00.000-07:00

lentement nous irons tous au bois...

2007-07-26T15:57:00.000-07:00

soon, we're all still in the city , and i havn't been exploring as much as i should, but there is people arround and things to do. dumpster diving is now amn olympic competition before q10 starts up, i like that the days are counted, i need fresh air. outside is a junk land in expansion like filmstrip i could sleep through it, right there under my eyes and i try to keep high on my bike, indeed i am more then sober.
maybe that's helping me miss Montreal. but the people even tough i go far and back always it seems like all i have to do is assume that i will never be in complete peace for now in my beloved city but i can;t escape it, i love it like an addiction, the people, the streets appears even in my head so much cleaner, the air feels even different, and i speak franglais. i miss st-henri, and little italy .. jonathan and all the rest,. i need the ocean and it feels insane to be so close to it, but i have been waiting for the menace to send me a sign of where to go, in victoria. maybe later . maybe .i think i already have made my decision to come back after home, why ! so quick. because it takes a whole fuckalot of times to create the place you feel belongs to you in a city , the feeling streets are yours, and here in vancouver there is enough species and animals wearing crazy eyes, shaking all over , they have won their sidewalk and i'd rather be in a cage then free with the junkies. believe me my body even in jail my mind will always be free, but i am not going back to this feeling of death i know clearly by now..... i would rather lock myself up....

and it's hard to forget the stranger's bed i last had a restless divine sleep. this is where i wanna go back... where i sleep and my dreams i saw awake...

les rue de day

2007-07-20T16:03:00.000-07:00

so, i ended up in east vancouver, and if i remember missing newyork for it's sidewalks never empty, well i found a new playground. i don't go as much as i use too, but it's better that way. maybe a little less trouble. today i ended up all by myself, i dare to step in th erain out there on my bike but i go slow, trying not to miss the play happening on hastings, i go all the way to main, i need cigarettes but instead i meet a woman who reminds me of roberto, this eccentric crazy boy who once apon a time showed me NY in between the big picture you see the magic, something more like a hit of acid then a fairy tale.. and the woman today sitting under an umbrela with perfect red nails, and scars all over, she had more then a trick in a purse, and a gentleman tramp i am i get charmed almost in a sur-reality, indeed i bought her a coffee. for a cigarettes with a born to be evil actress who instead rise up from the alley of vancouver always making sure not to walk on broken needles, but she tells you she is a lesbian too and lives in a beauutiful bachelor of her own, planning on more rich even, she's about to drag the bank in court o gracefull luck she broke her legs when they, had forgot to put down a caution slippery sign, nobody cares anymore. but i wonder what is more slippery, inside the floor is wet, and my body after a walk outside inside feels dangerous and dry. really dry.

i don't know the answer, the coffee i had with the woman was good, sweet even , but the ride back to the castle was slow, and even my feets rising from the streets i manage to get stained already.

i'll finish my story when it happens.

only little , simple .. wait t'll i get out. in the wilder west.

2007-07-20T00:32:00.000-07:00

words… one of the first time I truly get to type. I have been handwriting the way I do, ink. I rode in the city most of the day t’ll night falls at this bar turned into a garden party o so gay, I could see al the people so happy but obviously it is quite not me. I dream seriously of a darker place, still somewhere I could smoke endlessly, and write, and talk to people around me to music more heavy, nothing too crazy but I have craving for a night drugged by guitar languorously getting through me. and I dance, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t dance like the way they do, I get excited by soft and sharp eyes rather then sparkles and brightly days. I am a crow, and there was too much parrots tonight, it’s o.k. I am no one too complain but I like to escape en douceur, where no one knows, and always It hits me then the wanting to have someone waiting for me, someone to call home, where the heart is. and I have my own little cabin inside, but it gets dark at night usually. I am glad I met the people I have there in this house and all around me. still I go my own ways, patience comes and go, right now, just now, I am tortured inside in between going hunting the streets walking slowly with the junkies, prostitutes and who knows, someone like me. but I try to stay in thinking the feeling will slowly disappear but it’s the kind of ink I have been dripping all inside me for years gone by. and I have come through. that’s why I love my city where I find the tools I want to distract me, and the people around me that I love to see when the night is down on us. twilight is a thing , so shortly disappear then it’s pitch dark inside even when the lights are on. I am awake there is no doubt, I am an old soul in need to escape the rhythm too easy I am left standing too steady, and fuck it drives me crazy. this is far from the lies some will convince themselves, I am writing to no one but you. and I miss the last night I slept my arms around your body, it felt like I had nowhere else to go. and that’s exactly the feeling I need, just now. but the feeling is far behind, and for myself to get in troubles, I have patience left right there in front of me , only I can’t grab it so far, and we shall see how long I can stand the tease I created exquisite torture just for me. the girls I can see on the dance floor, there will be nights to come, I need my body to crawl under rainfall, and I dream of my self under your hand. la chute est lente. a dropping storm suffocates on a yearlong inside me, and it gets harder to breathe out,maybe i should jerk it all off.but that;s out of the reach. when I want to breathe inside you, mouths shuts like silent skies over empty coast road, no sideways, I only play the game in a shotgun duality, you gotta believe me when I say I hold no mercy for the girls who likes to hit and run….way to go and then I drag them in a city they call nowhere . I wanted to stay, but I push myself out of the way if I can’t see. your eyes. I remember the way you looked at me, you wouldn’t move and I couldn’t read. but still you were fast to grab in me and I let you through, reacted perfectly in the motion only dancers brings you high there, high inside and all it feels is not a thing but called it true. given a story, now I almost regret I didn’t play it an act digne de verone, the way lovers crawl into the exchange of their hearts even when you know you loose the picture frame when you break it all in two.
you said something, that I remember I should have told you.. I am driven by a thing they call crazy. but I forgot to ask you if I could ride inside for you . have we truly met or only have you wanted me before..

or I. dreaming again. even sober I confuse my own self, with the past the future when I am left alone in time gone by.. I am the moment pregnant without you .
I am my self with or without you.

let me go.... where you don't know

2007-07-12T19:52:00.000-07:00

if only i would have known, never would i have stepped a foot in this city where i feel like my whole inside is trying to get out from a cage. toronto as you know.
thank god i can rest at sydney's castle, i only felt like seeing jackson, but appart i feel like seeing no one from here. not because i don't love the people i met while i shortly lived here, but the part of me you can only see in my eyes right now as nothing to do with what you usually see. it's the hunting me who's awake right now, and silent in the night. i have lots in my mind, and last nigth even tough we went downtown to see the world i care no more for , queen street. we came back more then fast to get ready, lay our body the way old friends do in solid structured bed, listening to classical music, talking and laughing on the response to my soul.. a vision to tell me this might me my last game on heart(earth) .. i have not been born in 1981, but this one i feel every moment will be falling like bricks from the skies.. a life to live t'll the end, maybe the reason why all i believe in right now comes from ancient history, in proses and melody, melancholy. maybe this time i am going to be running , then slowly moving in times until my heart set himself free..
the days just before i left montreal were talking to me, the kind of cinematography you feel all over your body, i met a love i decided to let go, so fast only i had predict and felt it flow . drowning with me, i choose to stay a little longer floathing on the water, to see clouds. and maybe the dreams i don;t even know yet have heard my prays undefine in the days. i followed my instincts like the most innocent animal would do, in search of a nest where to hide , of a cave where to crawl under grave to feel alive when you know all i know then so fast you escaped so clever the corner highway of death, your body felt attracted by a road traced into a white clouded park. whenever i leave i always forget to bring the map i should follow, indeed i never planned on the treasure i am about to follow... your eyes showed me blue was the color when all i heard outside was the sound of mysef drowning down.... where the colors are grey. and i tried to breathe in anyway .. and my mind will show me picture of how conscious i was with you when you took me along your way. i remember the song i played for you by the water .. i kow i am not free now, not yet. but i will show you transparance strong enough to stand in front of the lane when the wind blows me crazy.. i will be left there waiting for eyes to see.
no one will cry , because i am going to the island where they predict rain all over ... july ... july .. the rushing veins, and my mellow heart beats.. i sing for me.. until i see the words you inked forever , i am not reality . . the spell is magikal. they say it's trouble is like a puzzle you struggles are to become a perfect image . wait . patience is passion. and in the end i will create a bed small but protected like une tour vue sur la tour de l'ouest, never will it be a prison. silver my toungue will stole the colors and texture of chains, and my hands if you wish they will be set free so i can hold you. . i will then show you a story. une histoire jamais racontee..

( i wish i could let you hear the whole story of angels of light , the endings are crazy , the kind of story i wish i was not alone to see )

and o also i need to say .. i write like th emusic that follows me , it grows into chaos.. but th eway i felt back then is sweeter then honey.. soft .. o si si i can sound like i am gone crazy , but its a lie. they say i am a softy.. and i play insomnia la comedia del arte. buena noche

i do paper these days .

2007-07-07T06:32:00.000-07:00

i do more, more then one would do in what they call a day. seriously i have no work, i tend to avoid with such grace any responsibility that involves the government. i am feeling restless. je suis . i remember my last few days in the lands of family being worried i would have lost my energy for ever, no mercy. hey call the disease lazy . what i am doing now is not lazy, only i am a brat and i choose my own playgrounds, as the usual i see in a format they called intensity, created on mesure for hopeless lover with attention deficit disordered mind. but my eyes are just just fine, i could play the game t'll i loose my contacts, look me in the eyes where there are no lies.
for now, i need to be patient and look at the screen with red popped eyes, le phenomene decadent des emerveilee , ceux a qui tres peu sauront resister. but seriously it's kinda getting easy in this early rising month of july , le fait de ne pas avoir froid aux yeux. last night i stayed in, no bars, no cafes, no grande soirees, but also i had it all in front of me, nous qui en fait quelquefois restons l'air petit. but the words being exchange are grand, somehow necessary. then we fell in conversations i havn't had in hell of a while. about pride, nothing gay at all don't you dare to put words into my mouth. it's all about loving what you do, and somehow we still manage to kick in the days away, close your eyes for a split-second then open. it's a new day, it could be sad i forgot last night to spy outside on the color of the moon. but there is sun loads and trust me to a certain audience we appear shiny and ready to roll... that's only me talking from the inside. comfort. from the mansion in colored pink of st-henri, there is nothing to worry about right now, even the cigarettes did come to me.

le cafe est infect, i drink it anyway. i have seen worst, remember there is always something worst. so truly why bother. when the body goes down, all you have to do is follow. but when my minds excessively runs still, i cannot sleep, i'd rather look like ' o romeo you have not seen your bed lately' then to awake with my dreams knocked in le plus profond de l'oubli.

2007-06-29T14:55:00.000-07:00

2007-06-29T14:28:00.000-07:00

twilight still in the oldest land i have ever lived..

2007-06-26T17:17:00.000-07:00

her i made it quite easy .. in lands of family , as soon as i get here alone,, i am so hard to keep in place, i run to one of my uncle i wish i could smoke in his home, and i write , i'm trying to start editing my old words.. but i need a little less light for this process to begin. i will be gone until i can't stand it no more.. .. i receive words from an old friend ( ...) going to the sea out east .. i still think a lot about her .. its crazy how certain love just won't leave you alone, not every story to be born and die so easy.. i still feel it inside me ,i never said it wasn't crazy, but it feels more easy after rapture has fell in eternal sleep, i'd rather keep the spell then awake too early without the one i am waiting for.. better then any other flirt that felt like a side candy the kind to digest easy. all is to changes but never does it mean for it shall grow smaller..

o.k. i shall go i need to write somewhere, on words, on paper, under skin, it's the itch inside.. something strong that never gets release..
but you live .. and deal with it..
no one feels the same, but i know you feel it too, in someways not any weaker nor stronger .. the same deep fucking down like it's roots is growing live in bloody heart tissues.. here to stay and hunts you t'll no end...

i love you johnny .. my love for you i can't always explain, i love it when i get those rage inside and i \write like i use to, but not exactly cuz i've changed , and you have, and the feeling translate, but there is nothing to deny in it's way..
there is random flirt and living comfort, love me tender and be my lover in a sweet salted story, but then there is passion, the words is en voie de disparision, and it's player are also growing tired , but i will never stop the play as in terms of my heart will one day . shut down, until then .. shall we.. be .. how ever it feels i cannot refuse the feelings are spiderweb in silver strings deep in carved beneath my eyes, and in twilight if you keep on looking , you will see, through me.. they tought it was easy , no no i never said it should be .. easy .. there is no love born to be easy .. but there is nothing worth living i can see.. but this heart stroke inside me,... it breathes steady, fast and then slowly..

i shall see you soon..
yours .marijo st-amour.

stigmata

2007-06-22T01:23:00.000-07:00

why o why, because there needs to be some kind of a title, and lately i have been going nuts with this itch incredible right there in the middle of my hands, pressure point, but i do feel quite calm and even people tend to notice , but i have reasons to be nervous, gavernment wise i only have developed a way to forget about it a little too easily.. so i am back where i belong for now, well i will one day agree to my own future history an dgo back endlessly to the sea, but as for now i am not quite fed with my beloved city , dear Montreal, you are sugar easy in my mouth after the bitter taste toronto has been surrounding what i had no other unfortunate choice but to see.
but i don't stay well often in the place i cannot feel it becoming a playground for older child in need of charming city. so i came back just on time, for soon to start the weekend of my own quebecoise fierte. sweet better we even have visitor soon on their way from the anglo land to our french territory. but hell as much as i am enjoying my return it has been electrified in terms of our kind of personal sweets, the kind of taste you gotta be ready to get back on to your feet if you want to survive the days to come your way. money they say was there to be burnt, but luckyly i have not been alone watching the fire pit going in deep side our minds.
i feel home and i like the respect, grandiose of our sometimes broken identity, judged are the junky of intensity, the ones who choose to walk through the day with this pressure in blood strains, you might believe for a second this is reality, but no, indeed that is what we wanted , to create our own imagery, scenes and the time line in front of me, i am telling you , it's o.k. if you want to step in it's way, only you have to be ready to give it hell of a play. to make them believe you are standing straigh more then they say. just breathe for a second, let yourself go easy at first, it takes times to be able to rollercoaster up and down the day without dropping peices of your to be always reborn identity.

so.. i have more to say, but my friends i have not seen in a long time are still awake and we got to catch up the sun together while you are there in dreams, we speak in a verite only la langue des fous comme nous sommes restee eveillees, pour voir encore une fois le jour se lever..

les nuits seule au chateau en annex.

2007-06-14T21:48:00.000-07:00

now the concentration is becoming slow. and there was visit. i a the visit that hides inside by choice. i want water, to feel better in the clothes i have been running all day. and it's not getting any cooler at night, i dream of a shower with no shiver after, of a bed made of pillows, and soft blankets, all the missing i have not been doing any much about, i sleep when i'm tired, an di leave when it feels heavy to be in a space with no radio, it's the worst, i could sleep on wooden floor with music and cigarettes way before all the unnescesary. soon it will be over, and i will need hell of an excuse to come back.
i am still waiting for you stranger, and god knows how much i hate it. waiting for what i would run faster to find myself. it keeps me awake but if you wait for nothing then nothing is any better. not now. i spoke to my dear emma, i read easily the few lines you send me, we will talk tomorrow. we might see each other sunday , then i a gone, i would have stayed to see you play. but it's hard for me to look at you and even from close i feel the distance and accoustic in a room dark where i would see no one but you and cloud of smoke, i then would stay . but i have my ticket outside of this city so freaking early on monday , i have been quiet about leaving, but i have not done a thing. worries do come on time .

i am melting inside , and feeling just a little alergic to the outside streets, toronto to be the first city where i don't feel calm in crazy night's crowded streets. i run faster but aware of all the drunken fuckers. c'est la vie .
mais ce n'est pas ma vie, i tought of myself away from cities and felt it impossible the silences and little arround you, but never again i have felt the need to be away. i would die alone in the country. it's hard to think of ho wlong could i stay with the angels and demons in my head. by the sea with enough scotch and a nice little desk just by the window. there is nothing enough crazy not to live through. i want changes, and i need to change along with them .

i feel quiet now. just now.

jamais n'est-ce le dernier mot.

2007-06-14T19:26:00.000-07:00

pas ce soir. il se fait deja tard mais j'en ai rien a foutre. je suis toujours seule, and even tough les dames de la maison are the rares i wanna see when i'm already deep into my bubble, a little shaky in a good way , i need tea. i made tea. it's that easy sometimes, when i am on the road most of the time my back is breaking from the weight i carry but i have everything i need to be. i always envy the ones i see with bags so small life is more easy but i remember this man that told me when he needed to train himself and feel healthy all there was to do is take a bag and walk nowhere and further with it. simple but there is all the tool they have created, the day i know i can protect myself completely with the strenght of my mind, of my hands, and survive endlessly , i will also be ready to die. not envious , only ready for when i have to go where no one know. i sound calm about it , as a cat i have already lost a good half of it, and pushed my body and soul in extreme ways , not very conventional shall i say but even when i realize and think back about the roads i took, and how maybe faster would i have done all i had to do if i had kept myself in what they call 'le droit chemin' but if i think of my right side, and all the stories that created me, inked sur la droite, it reflects love, and love you better be ready to ride if you want to go through . these loves are now peacefull( almost ) in my life, still there to stay . but . truth is i can change the subject insanely that i remember shit and i rarely go back into my words.
it never was suppose to be that easy to read someone's mind anyway , there is clear days, and fuzzy night to breathe in . i see clear but i desire way more then the keyboard my hands are dancing strangely over..
you came back , i don't need name because i have ways to dreams about who knows, still hunting me. and lover i create while they were friends alive and there for me to see and be, a better reason for sinematic story for insomniac in need to stay calm, but i run away late at night in search of my reality, i am truly not the kind to stay in comforting bed alone jerkin' off. i like it better when i can feel the wanting right from under my belt.when i ride inside. out. and more on the surface of my skin. i am missing like insane your body i never would have tought could take me the way i always wanted to . your eyes sweet but your arms twitching to hold me still, the way you want me. ce qui me manque encore plus ce sont ces nuits ou j'ai sentie ton corps en relache, all of you letting go, vulnerable but have you a clue i was going to hold you , and never play you unfair. i did in the way i have grown with unusual talking habit, an dno one arround me to talk about all that was in my head, and this head of mine always so fast moving, i imagine everyone will do the same. but there i was wrong. i wish i woul dhave been there longer to learn more of who you are, not the way you look, what stroke inside your stomach, and i hope the one that will ever go there will do it softly, because i know i have been push so hard to show the inside of my guts, and it creates sweet angel like me who are double edge blade with no mercy .

again . a suivre . soon. tant qu ela bulle n'eclate , there will be time .

the song i adore you gave me what feels like ages ago. but you'll alway sbe my favorite memory. the melody left me sensation prints are deep in me, the bullet red that never came out from the back. still intact , an installation inside my heart.
art to live forever.

pj. harvey

Long goes the night
Longer the day
Teclo your death
Will send me to my grave

I learned to beg
I learned to pray
Send me his love
Send him to me again
Let me ride
Let me ride
Let me ride on his grace for awhile
Let me ride
Let me ride
Just let me ride on his grace for awhile

Long goes the night
Longer the days
Teclo your death
Will send me to my grave
Let me ride
Let me ride
Just let me ride on his grace for awhile
Let me ride
Let me ride
Just let me ride on your grace for awhile
Just let me ride

on the road i will never fear to ride this way .

time is , bad replay of the ''slowdrug''

2007-06-14T17:23:00.000-07:00

. later . days are so long outside, i finally rode my ass to another crazy woman, very welcoming, the way my family o piraterie in montreal would be. fuck sake it aint that scary. but i fell a little bit , to spare time before i spend dime, and the air so conditionee , lovely without the heat but i awoke with this pressure in my throat the same one you get when there is a cold watching you. when you are running in a city so big with a lot of nothing, you feel bless almost to have a space to write , listen to your music, and aleluya smoke inside,dans la penombre a l'interieur, i still see. i feel exactly like the lights arround me, in a house completely locked, the windows are shut, and the cat is even hidding for now, mazzy star makes me triste in a lovely way. i went for diner today with a girl amazing , guitar player an dan adventure i had long ago in montreal, one of th elongest night in my life , without a crazy party bien sur. we met in a bar on parc av. then i remember she gave me a note, i answered and out in the street , closing time it felt insane for me to part away from her without knowing. what we could become in a night. nothing expecteded but i always think , and behave as the lover, and i became a charming friend pretty fast, that;s the instinct of the lover making sure not to loose so much people in refusal to see , they will maybe stay there for longer then you tought. so. that night we walked like crazy , to her house in the plateau to her house, hiding from her roomates just a little, i heard her play guitar. an dcrazy i truly wanted to fall asleep next to her but at this time my gallery had been baricated so we went anyway , and i literaly broke inside the rear window. crazy. then in the morning we left . i don't remember where, we saw each other a littl eafter that. then probably more thne a year without really words with her. today was a sweet afternoon, i realized that laughing is crucial. and certain people i havn't laugh much with these days. i need crying but i need laughter.
love and laughter.
romy you wrot eme so little today . in italian and o whta a pleasure for me to find the words perfect answer, a least i will alwaays be trying with you . italian.
but your words are precious to me, and to miss someone is something , to know they'll be back in your life , and then the warrior makes it all better. and you are. we are from a race i don't see, you are not quite like me an di am not quite like you . but i will never meet someone..like you . .

amores don't die.

i have more to write , more to say .. about the day . about what i saw yesterday . and what i see in tomorrows. but now i am waiting .
in sinfull patience . as always i still believe i am an angel

sesame street come deliver me ..

2007-06-11T16:20:00.000-07:00

why o why , because i am in hell. today is actually an exception, after wandering in a cafe i know already too much. i left on my bike, awoke at 7 in the morning to go to work, never went.... once my head wants his freedom even my body gets afraid of the work, all i'll ever remember . how to ride. but this city drives me crazy too many road empty full of monkey to go through .. and trust me i am not in a social mode, i ride past the same streets and nowhere to stop, for food maybe. and for alcohol, but lately i have been some kind of an angel, maybe the devil only resting until i fall back into my playground. my love. montreal is a city. i am obsess with this city. but the girls are still hunting .. the only nightmare i can watch and sleep with, a fairytale that never last or one your mother told you ages ago in her last bed that you would sleep forced by with no dreams to remember. they comes inside and it feels like a storm with no rain. i am becoming suspicious of my own feeling.. last note i wrote to . you . i send you my love and if you don't fucking want it just trow it off the window and let it breath . don't let me suffocate . i belong free and i tought you know it .. i tought it was clearly printed in the look in my eyes. but i loved those night my body trapped sweetly under yours. and o a pleasure to give myself to you . you had no clue and it's o.k. your innocence wins, i let go of too much , before you even asked for, i was learning to slow down, and your absence came to meet me before one last kiss. before once last night melting by your side. i knew from the begining that i was leaving, i've had crazy ride roller coaster into obsessive feelings, the feel it will drown you flying from the inside , a high better then any drugs you can take. but we are slow lover, and proper friends, btu it's toronto for fuck sake. even friends are nothing like the hearts i know in montreal... this morning a friend of mine wearing the best hat ever.. loosen up toronto . si si i agree.
i need you to know i hold not even rage , not even deception or angry toughts towards you , the gentle me understood a lot more then you would see, because we all believe our silences are that crystal clear, but i told you i cry in crystal i know how to read, and i am more aware then all i can talk in a day . it's only the obsessive me that wanted you a little more, just a little more. what can i say i ache for affection, and i act pretty crazy on the feelings that are slowly pushed away, not forgotten just away . away .

it's o.k. i came here to this city to go away . again. and i am actually running, not away from me , but from the streets of this city before they make me so sarcastic even on a sunny day , i am my own company and i need to lay off the schedule, i am too old to work like that for you and you and you , i builded fence an deven my boss who think she is creating, straigth from a catalogue . i work for art . and my friends..

words, i need them. there formality, the way they explain what's missing in me .
my words of the week.
pas·sion
–noun 1. any powerful or compelling emotion or feeling, as love or hate.
2. strong amorous feeling or desire; love; ardor.
3. strong sexual desire; lust.
4. an instance or experience of strong love or sexual desire.
5. a person toward whom one feels strong love or sexual desire.
6. a strong or extravagant fondness, enthusiasm, or desire for anything: a passion for music.
7. the object of such a fondness or desire: Accuracy became a passion with him.
8. an outburst of strong emotion or feeling: He suddenly broke into a passion of bitter words.

yeah from what i feel or all those time with the people i see, i get lonely and remember how this feelings draw me alive, but feelings are nothing you can buy in the liquor store.

fragment, the subject might chahge , i ran in order to buy my special limonade, scotch. all of last week it tasted bad into my throat , too strong, or too much , or i was sad enough with a smile on my face , becoming like all the kids out here, i'd rather cry an drink it all, but i don't need to cry, there is a difference with a broken heart then bored eyes watching the day light . turns into much of a disaster when you wanna hide because you have been riding all the way on queens's street on a friday night, i get claustrophobic, but i never was..

there is no need to waste the keyboard telling you about the last weeks . i am o.k. now. just now. in the house we complain about the smell of smoke but imagine if we ciouldn't lit up smoke after smoke. we would all hate the smell of sweet sweet pie. no sugar it ain't really what we need.

you see . someone told me they would read that blog, so there is no need of me to censure these words, actually i had no intention to talk about you , not because i want not, more because life's force of animal told me in quiet whispers that i should keep more inside me, and lest for the other, but you know i am a pretty bright one but still it takes more then a week to recover from drug use and abuse, so who knows i might loose the feeling somewhere inside the brain where it floats in harmony . still there is always good chances it might end up in a cave somewhere no light .. still don't get me wrong what i feel is always heavy in a good way . nothing easily overwhelms me . especially the heart , don't always falls in love . this time i feel calm about it with you , i wouldn't unless you would drag me there with you , but there aint no way i am falling alone.. it's like diving , and i am the ocan this time, but they'll tell you ...never you should dive alone, the deeper the more danger you'll be feeling all inside you. i love the scene i am left here, i'm glad i stayed, you havn't got bored of me yet , so lady should i really think of me as lucky. there is three o lady there just behind me , i am listening to heavy perfect music, and i love the echoes in the back of my head, women's voices intertwined together. i just had a falligng tought inside me, of you , and only you walking towards the kitchen or you room, and i follow , because i don't feel bad hypnotize, it's not your body that drags me away from the notes i hit crazy , i wish it could go faster . it's the way we moved on that night we were drugged children wanting human calor the way kids wants to play where they have been told not too.
i wonder how crazier sober it could be , the softnest in slow motion can be insne, not your head anymore spinning but your senses, ...

later. my body is warm, land away from cold, a little tired, a lot actually , i need to dive, or a hard rain falling on me , i would drag you out there just you stand there with me in the rain until we get soaked. soaked.
i am lost into my own tought, i could or should rather not feel but i am sorry i learn too strong never to be cold to my impulsiveness. i feel, and at last i will always be able to lay it on words. and i will stay sit still on that chair, heat risibng , when i wanna do like the boys do al teh time, i wear no shirt , i remember how perfect it feels someone's hands on my stomach , i feel like the person i created so real under the surface of what you really can see. androgyne more even then the way i look . there is so much eyes in one room looking all over, we could almost play frenesie and that would be o.k. but i will not look at you , not just now. i want a straight fall into darkness, only because my eyes are shut down by your lips. but i knopw exactly how to dream awake i told you so .
my muscle are getting numb from the alcohol.. i wanna lay head under water for the whole week until i feel rebirth of the rider that i'll always be like an animal left back into the right jungle . i am an animal. there is no lie. i am hunting in a desert land of a city look into me you will see i have it inked into my skin the only where there is no lies..

don't lie, and i will not .. and the world outide that stand like a fake picture moving unsteady in a rhytmn to make no sense i'm sorry i have better expectations, we will see and stay still like perfect moment pregnant.

i will stop the words there is always more. but i stop my hands so many times through one letter i am lost in my own rythmn and i want nothing like this, still i have wishes to hear you , see you . crazy . like no one else tells me , there is words you can describe in a formal book, but crazy is a way to be , amd no one act the same. you are nothing like the same. nothing like it ...

more. w.o.r.d.s... i had feeling someone would read, next time i'll be writing on my own , and i will deliver letter to the cat he will be a fine messanger..

this is moi. this is my family . this is you, a jamais

2007-06-06T22:19:00.000-07:00

sleep

2007-06-03T20:23:00.001-07:00

there is so much i want to capture, image. photo .. maybe movements if i get the chance. sleep . i should do it right now, tomorrow is the kind of working day you fear in advance .. i'll pray for it while i'm on my way . for now i just slowly awaits for the words i don't create myself. mon visage se fait vide ce soir, mes espoirs ne sont que des silences plus lourd , il faudrait que j'arrette d'y penser. mais on ne peut jamais tout faire a la fois... c'est impossible, . . i have wishes de comptes a rendre a personne. d'une danse seule a l'interieur with music so clear to shut the rest away, what ever they tried to say, i acted d'une ecoute sans failles. but i forget it already .
there is many highway i biked through in the last days . now i would only do bets if you would hold me there while i stay .. but mes pensees se font tard et je n'ai plus rien a expliquer. ni a comprendre... rien . only music, serenade . stabat mater .. .

lettres.. pour les possede

2007-05-31T17:43:00.000-07:00

i wrote more then enough all over paper..

he did so.. long ago..

Le Possédé

Le soleil s'est couvert d'un crêpe. Comme lui,
Ô Lune de ma vie! emmitoufle-toi d'ombre
Dors ou fume à ton gré; sois muette, sois sombre,
Et plonge tout entière au gouffre de l'Ennui;

Je t'aime ainsi! Pourtant, si tu veux aujourd'hui,
Comme un astre éclipsé qui sort de la pénombre,
Te pavaner aux lieux que la Folie encombre
C'est bien! Charmant poignard, jaillis de ton étui!

Allume ta prunelle à la flamme des lustres!
Allume le désir dans les regards des rustres!
Tout de toi m'est plaisir, morbide ou pétulant;

Sois ce que tu voudras, nuit noire, rouge aurore;
II n'est pas une fibre en tout mon corps tremblant
Qui ne crie: Ô mon cher Belzébuth, je t'adore!

— Charles Baudelaire

a one last drop of words for you .

2007-05-26T22:35:00.000-07:00

because now i know you will know where to read my consciousness up in the air.
i will none the less be unfair, because you are being so right to me, and it's not today the day that i'll start filtrating my words, i am way too wacko to do such thing. a weekend like this, i must have looked bored at this cocktail soiree but i was not, sometimes i make a move on my own, unexpected, without really a clue my night could go wrong or right .. but i love these nights where you get so deep in the space inside . but you look out for those people you have just met because your instinct tells you they will be in it for the long run, for when you leave, and come back you will smile together and still laugh and drop in your head, there will always be there for ever. maybe not . but i am tired maybe . my mind is so awake, as soon as i got back into petra's castle for the hard clouded kids grown ups, i see she hasn't slept yet , an dif she doesn't the brain tells the heartt it fell in pain , mis-drained... so i tell her to go .. sleep. i will stay up and pack and clean, and i know i will look like i have gone back into my 18th birthday's rave party tomorrow, but all the stuff is no wready to go down the stairs, for yard in sale. tomorrow sunday , le jour du seigneur, an di shal take it off to pray thy clouds turning grey in a constant movement because couch surfing is a story, to couchsurf under rain fall is always crazy.
but you get use to crazy, more like you see crazy , and non je ne vais pas me detourner de mes obstacles in everyday.
tonight , i felt release after i talk to the one i heard you say you were too soon to run away. and i know i can be more then fast into suceptibility ( is it really a word) but i react always faster then the running rabbit. oui oui oui .vrai il dit.

people are right when they say it takes times and words, and tralalalalala to get to know someone, il y a l'envie de savoir, et aussi la peur de ne pas percevoir ce qu'on a deja reve en ces amours passes.
but i think we both have the eyes of the tiger you tought i shall say .
l'oeil de l'idolatrie, comme dans ces chansons in all those melody that drove the pirates crazy when they heard mermaids inside , perfect illusion desire insane you will not reach. but i know it's not always so easy but i saw us hands in hands looking a little further, then those parc we see in the greater toronto, cafes and paves i waited for but there is another picture wild to see. and i want to taste the feeling of your hands surrounding me next to the sea.. no commitment, au dela, if you read in between my words you will see i am seeking a feeling far from dependency, it's in my eyes , and my body i wanna be free of my most destructible desire, and fulfill the rest of my senses with the only thing that can go through me . they all-ready think i would spit into you love but the words that can only be is the feelings there is .. les emotions, surgissent on the surface of skin, in knotted stomach and head-dreams speeding too fast you canot sleep.. . well right now i .. went out there on the balcony , the rain finally stops. but i was hoping to get showered . another day, when i expected less. in the end even awake i am still wondering what goes on in your head when you fell asleep. do you miss me. or will you miss me when i'm gone. i could act like no one care but i do... and i want to see you . but i want you to see me better. it takes a lot of fragile inside me to say it the way it ain't so easy to let go when it feels crazy. and c'est comme ca vont les habitudes, they are crazy and i feel sometimes sorry but also it becomes like family. a little too easy. say you were here with me... but it feels good on my own.

i want you to want me .... and i want me to be steady, the way dancer stops in circles suspended in the air, la musique des harmony.. balance. the perfect cut can only be perform by sharpened blade in duality .
the word can be said in more then you tought there would only be one way.. the dance in between ces etres opposees. i dare you to stay . and the pressure get tamed will one day run away.. i am heavy heart in love with melancholy, but you are parts of a crystal puzzle, the expressions in your face is far from simple. my sweet walking puzzle, i know passion can be drawn and love can be misunderstood, life goes so fast we are running away , and that's why i will be patient but i never let go of those gemstone . still soft . it could be precious

Crystallography (from the Greek words crystallon = cold drop / frozen drop, with its meaning extending to all solids with some degree of transparency, and graphein = write) is the experimental science of determining the arrangement of atoms in solids. In older usage, it is the scientific study of crystals.

here again. les mots fall en douceur.

2007-05-26T01:00:00.000-07:00

it feels good tonight finally the day was endless, warm in the sun and riding arround in-town. trying to find something special, like the way i want our story to be , nothing really to predict, to worry, to prepare... the past is there suppose to show you better, the way you read book to help you realize there is millions stories alive and the ones i crave for are the ones you see on screen, in books, in flashes or pregnant moment going fast at a speed i know , 24 images a second the measure of sinema, and the film has it's score... and you know what .. the city surrounding us right now has way ridiculous to manipulate the pictures they see, the way they shall be, oh play for me , but let me tell you in ages a-day there is not many people strong and truth enough, real in the emotions they are made off .. to play .. live.
la comedia del arte, or the drama, romance absurd are free upon my way, la vie n'est pas si rose. it is black tinted white shadows and dancers in terrible nights it migth rain , an artist shall be aware of the details to deal with, if you see it sour, you have not given yourself a chance to taste life's flavour. . i am willing to go through all that it comes towards my way , flavours n trouble and struggles i am here to stay... but again tonight i felt it inside me the reason why my next coming month will be dense in work and sweat my body melt into sharpened blade. and i will go away, and i don't want to be hurt before i even move away, i have met you and your conscience and awareness, you listen to me , and it happens my eyes are filled with waters and pain for what i go through, but i have learned to go deep inside my flesh , and it's old and i am young again. and i am a children of love , will always be.. it doesn't need to be put into words the way we choose to see the love arround us, more like the actions, movements, reactions, consciousness of the air arround me. i am listening to the cure. and i think of all my old loves i went through their faces like i knew from the begining they would make my history, the ride worth to be rode, in circles and circles my eyes will see and in other people's eyes i saw love , and i saw fear , and i saw how in intimacy they were into me , and i was into theirs, and when i ride my bike alone at night or move my hands on the paper like there is no time to sleep, maybe it has something to do with all the nights i slept without you , thinking of you .. and you . and recently i have been going down , less of a better pillow for you to rest your head over, and i feel sorry you don't need my apology i would rather show you i can be easy .
i never expected in life to find someone like me, and i have had those conversation with old friends lately on how people in friendship meet , la rencontre des etres se fait de plus en plus posee, and i know it's insane to show yourself, go deeper and be vulnerable, strong and week, scared or esseulee the childrens in our eyes are diamonds most will loose by trying to stand up for a society O community in needs to be redefine... i was just there in montreal a week ago to see old friends i have been through thunder rain an dour brain sometimes insane, after days awake and the past memory lane are tattoos underneath your skin.. .it reflects.
but who am i to judge someone, because it has happened to me , and i will quote here again my dearest friend shawnda, a pirate in it for the long run, the type of people i hope they know they can call me at 4 in the morning and if they ever need me , i will run by them, i will tell my work and bricks arround me they shall fear me, i will be there , if only ..
you and you and you and all of the news and old dancers in my breaking life was hard but always in an harmony. y'alll should know i am not perfect and i expect nothing to be so, but i demand loyalty, us to stay together and help out each other, i find people so different then me, and i don't always agree or understand, but i respect.
respect is more then a word it's a freaking attitude.
maybe all of us should go on a one-day career into animal life, be a cameleon and you will attend more lands and species you have tought you knew really how they were, be my raging tiger and we will fight together and create, but also be my vulnerable goat i will not let you walk on broken glasses i have done it before and it's not really. for everybody.
but be a seductive cat on a rooftop the city we shall lay ourself and bodies in the wind, feel fresh i can breathe, trapped me in a cage like a lion i will be o.k. one day i might jump right over your head so high no one will never catch me unless they know how to be my tamer.

so i will tame my own self into sheets for a night finally dreams awake felt better i will remember, five star in the morning.. i hope you had a good rest..
turn off the computer go outside see the day will start just there so softly right in front of me ...

reserve the battery

2007-05-22T22:31:00.000-07:00

o technology telling me soon you might dare to delete my words. i just suggest you not to even dare .. since i am out there when i should be into my dreams .. but i sleep like a dead engine... only i awake remember the stories in futile melody going through my head ... and it feels good .. so good .. with .. the music once my dear old bleoo told me mazzy star would always be a hell of an endless serenade .. for all those night you feel alone . in bed curled up into my sheet . i can let go . and i know in the end all will be o.k .. and my dear sweatheart you are away tonight .. and tomorrow i'll be on my way starting an era of surfing couches and streets in the city i find sometimes cold ... there will always be music in my eyes in order to warm me up.. t

tomorrow another working day.. and soon i shall be elaborate to tell you my heart is turn on by the art .. of living . i cannot fear to love you .. and i will not weight you are something coming to me slightly you have been more then the perfect light breeze into my lung and running veins..
where ever you are .. i send you lanes of a serenade modern...sous l'espace au-dela de mon regard .

stabat mater ..

2007-05-10T11:26:00.000-07:00

the melody have found me straight through the line mediane in the day when i feel the breeze of loneliness piercing my mind. not that this feeling is empty au contraire it is sometimes too dense, for my ownself, what to do. outside this world, and i like to go into my head only in a chaos i feel tender my blood dilates. and today is a long day, and i need to stay away from you , i need to navigate in the islands alone inner persona. and to this music needs a scenery unbelievable, the ocean raging de preference, the wind a must, rain can fall, as long as i can be warm inside. imagine the feeling of being drugged by someone's arms, soft but precise the movements shall be. and the noise are no longer terrible, the chaos you ear downtown on a weekday when chimpanzee not always so well... behave in the streets . la de-ambule des corps febriles et pourtant je me dois de sentir . se mouvoir de soi-meme. an hour then two with a friend , baking flesh under sun getting deeper and i kept moving a little more north, to where i might stop for a scotch in words, i don't do prose, i lined the words like white clouds of fading tar elaborates from the chain smoker.

i am a train . in a movie where the shutters are low in times. less then the essence of sinema , 24;1 is a luxury for amateur, i crave the avant-garde of technology, and here don't get me wrong i am certainly not talking about your computerize manic attention you are nothing to what life can do by itself when the body becomes the fine brush it can be , the dancers are moving the way reality needs to be shaken. all that impossible without the melody i can be.

i have been seeing you lately and sometimes we all worry looking at the world to show us what love should be . but even here in kanada they are all sometimes a hiding re-play of what american cinema tried to be . far lands from a world only fellini could create. from a romantic , trepide words in exchange back and forth between lovers hiding behind the lenses of a master in a breathless sort of french avant-garde. the only lessons i kept a fair souvenir from, godard was a key to what life can be .. you shot her from the right angle, and she shall will fall opposite . there is no need of reality only hearts can see. what there is to feel.

and i believe the way animals wild trust their flair, feroce envy to walk, traces of tender paws into a jungle no one see. aware i can be , and i will miss you , and there is nothing wrong with that. nothing really.
seulement je suis nee de cette race qui pour autant mes sentiments se sont fait fracasser i bleed a certain hope that will always taste sweeter boiled like the perfect sinner. i believe there is more complexe in all i can see through the day, but my heart is a serious cells holding century of swords went through only to sharpened it like a deadly knife, and i will not hurt you. and you will not hurt me .
day light teaches you better then complains , and the nights were born for the lovers .

i will stop for now the serenade non pas moderne, but there is a melody in my vein when i hear the sounds you are feeling good even lorsque ton regard je peut percevoir sans meme te voir .. deviens sombre. je coulerai des soleils d'un rouge feroce si souple . and will i dance for you .
maybe so .. dare we to invite one and another or will you push me fall into another trolley .
i told you i don't do highway , i like rollercoaster
alive or capture.
l'instant se fait pregnant en ta presence.
et de ton absence, j'occupe mes mains a la danse , l'echos de mon corps en encre sleeps for you .

lettres oubliees..

2007-04-25T13:58:00.000-07:00

for today , for tomorrow. et quoi encore. i havn't finish properly a letter lately, waiting to move back home, waiting here to be with you . and i am leaving. everything goes down my skin like water on a duck's body. waiting is not even a word anymore, craving my get the fuck away faster then ever, takes time to make up my mind but when i do , it's a situation de non retour.
and to say good bye to the lovely people i have met, but all these people i see not. you saved me from raging my last days in here. you have almost took control of my eyes so they don't get into dream fog, gone far. i stayed with you until the bells ring us over. not inside my stomach you will stay there. i don't forget easily my love .
but i am obsess with no responsibility, no rent. money into my bike and some more peices back into me. i drink the days away, pourring scotch before diner comes a matter, i eat and i drink, and i still chain smoke to the point of watching the cat coughing, well what can i do he hangs out with me compulsively. i need to get out of here , of my mind. of this place spoil, i need to be lost in the city i know, i need my reality to circles inside my stomach a little bit more. even the tought that i'll have to run again to drop cv and find a job is crazy , i wanna talk to someone and work .. that's it. i want to be riding 12o km/h with my lover towards the sea. towards a mountain. down down down ... . . and up again..
i am almost scared of your silences, i know they still means something, but i am having trouble read cuz i see black and the lights when it comes is way too bright .. i want those green skies we saw, endless. and days that goes by with my run arround in montreal where i know where to stop to have coffee. i need to see my dog because i have been a distant mother.
i want you . no gain or lost , just time. .
but i don't care anymore, i feel relax for the storms to come, it's o.k. now summer is coming the rain falls are gonna be warm enough .. warmth .

more.

2007-04-18T17:04:00.000-07:00

night .. home, i left for only one last ride for the day. i wanted scotch, and there was cheap pasta awaiting me back home. everythin i eat makes me sick, but i can take the alcohol.
strangely i like reading quotes of people i adore, people i will never know for real but i live like they are the ones i believe in their whole life... margeritte Duras is my favorite, and 8/10 of her quotes refer to alcohol, if she manage to lie for that long, then it gives me hopes. red wine would make me sick... there was also a quote on time, the better way to spend time, is to waste it .. that's even more hope for me lately, it keeps me almost away from crying, but tears let go is more healthy then the seriousness on my face.. a woman crying is a beautiful thing .
'' capri, c'est fini, et dire que c'etait la ville de mon premier amour, je ne crois pas que j'y retournerais un jour.'' i wanna watch this film again. i wanna better desk to write... emma's got the best set-up for words, except smoking in less. and i would rather sit on broken glass and be able to smoke then to not .. it's worst then starving, bien pire... que tout.
i am an obsessive persona by choice, i could chose to forget , hang out out there .. but i want you to chain me down wherever you want .. where it's cold.. where i can't even touch myself, i will come anyway. in pitch darkness, i don't need to see in order to dream awake.
i am kind of a sadistic thinking over my desires, i assume it looks like i like it that way , i'd rather feel everything then nothing at all... i'd rather lie in bed alone like it hurts, then to be listening to someone i don't fucking care about. and there is a lot i don't care for... just just now.. still, i am awaiting my package release from montreal..
waiting, for the impatient me is hard. the music is not helping me, the memories is worst, but the taste i remember in my mouth keeps me starving awaiting, i will not let go .. i eat not to fall. the only things i like for now, scotch and chocolate..
my bed feels empty, my body is getting colder. i am sick, inside, i look lost when i ride my bike, and the look in my eyes, is looking too far for no one to understand.
fuck i write like someone in need of a cold shower. but ah ah ah i am a writer , alone. alone.

living in a bottle.

2007-04-18T14:42:00.000-07:00

and soon i'll start having a hard time breathing because i have past the line where th ebottle is half full, then empty i see through . and obviously i still see clear . i always do. and i am floathing in sober land , and the eyes are more then crystal clear. too much for nothing.. for things to disapear. and i feel comfortable in the prison i lay in . i push myself out on my bike everymorning but the days are endless. and late i cant sleep.. my body would be in pain i would barely feel. all i wanna feel is you . and it's not there. it's somewhere , i belong .
'' i wake up and im fine and my dreams still on my mind, but it doesn't take long for the demons to come and visit me ''
my demons are daily kind of gentle compare to how they use to be .
but it doesn't matter they still drive me crazy. i am not kidding . i stand up but i don't feel like it, it's a fucking jungle of human species outside my window. and i remember clearly when i was there with you , ther was no body, no streets, no cars . only skies turning green for the night , t'll the sun would reappear and bring in the fear of loosing it, this moment. i feel like we did not know how perfect it would be even in times i think too much, and so do you . but in the end it was.
i am going nowhere but i still wanna take you with me.
i live in somewhere no one knows but you saw through me..
i refuse to let go of the look into my eyes.. even when people try to make me smile.
there is dripping melancholy already inside my body, soon it'll come over my skin and burn.
with or without sunshine i careless.

i know i am a hell of an oldskool dreamer. but i like to believe i heard my calling, from the deep of your silences.
you were like this slow drug in the morning . ( pj) and i awake now trying to forget that i know how you do simple thinking. i am not a simple human being .
it's six and the night is only begining , i crave for it's ending . so i sleep, this time when i am dreaming and not remembering. i am sober, but dosed in far. far .. i hate the word.
i am waiting from a begining of a life here in toronto .. i have forgotten how to be a normal worker. that also , i fucking care not.. i am truly drastic when love is ... . exist, away from me ..
away from you . forgive me it has nothing to do with where i wanna be... you don't chain in a room like this , an animal thirsty for calor. . .
i wanna sleep and forget . but now my brain is set-up to remember yesterdays, and try to live through the day .. i am th eliar who said there was no need to reality. but i stay here with me. and the cat even is trying to escape. i saw him coughing last night do you have a clue how i can smoke.. but trust me i will not die of it...
le corps survie. et continuera de survivre. let say i am living la dolce vita right now in my system.. but i feel my heart beat screaming in pitch black...
i wann abe on the road.. the one going back home..

how long will i wait. we'll see

les journees a n'en plus finir...

2007-04-17T14:20:00.000-07:00

looking forwards the day .. that's exactly what i do .. i run if i have too. i still hate th eweather like crazy . when i see you time doesn't matter. we do nothing and it's somehow fun... super-fun. simple. i talk and then you do it too. different. but i look tall, i look like the don't fuck with me type of girl. but you lead me where you go, when you go nowhere i follow. you don't know. i do.
back home i write, eat a little then find scotch.. my friend lady pirate of montreal said so, if whyskey hasn't kiled me by now, it never will. that's right .. i listen to amazing music.. i do little else. i don't bother jerking the day away. when i sleep by your side it's all there is. all i need.
i hope you will tell me.. what you want from me...
it's incredible how much i worry for what ill do, work. i need money. but then i act on it, and find enough to survive. survive. not really i have a roof, steal enough old clothes to dress up like january all year long. but truly i wanna sleep in sweat, half naked and smoke cigarettes to the twilight of this city ... it's a fact , i smoke too much, and i truly like it. i don't feel sick, i am sick of way more then that. cigarettes are fine, just just fine . soone i will be returning to Montreal the real beloved, for fun and unfinish fun ... then fucking return here . i am in a better living situation here , but i am far from convinced.
of course i should be diving through all of the past , in words and more, but i am not in the mood. i am always in th emood for writing more. more ccrap and elaborate my brain in typo.
i like algorythm if it will save my career .. what career, the pirate one, the one where you shall care less about the rules.

i should think about legit, say j. but now i think of making it through the grey, i love silver, but lately the greys are ugly as fuck .

sur ce je vous souhaite la plus belles des soirees.

the days are no longer bright .. fall for me .. .

2007-04-13T16:55:00.000-07:00

sisi i could be talking to the night , i could beg her to fall on me , be my lover .
and i listen to the song that always reminds me what should be my true evil spirit when i choose to pray ... and i know how ... to play .. but i will beg no one .. i want people to tell me , not only a fucking casual boring platonic story ... i want more thne that .. sorry if you cannot tell, i also like to whisper, but i am awake , certainly not because of good greens , let say i havn't visited my lucky charming friends that usually feed the tramp so good... shame on me .. instead i spend a lot of time making moves alone, and alone i truly care some , only i have serial tendencies to breathe in and only deep into my head which only respond by my heart. so the cramps in my stomach or my knee in pain are something to think of later .. if later really le mal persiste ..
but i dont live all in my self today .. i am in harmony with only my desires, and they contradict health all over thy self..
i am sitting carefully makig almost no noize into my dear old lady . but she is younger then me, in silence but i type so hard , i am molesting the keyboard really , sorry they are playing p.j.harvey .. and scotch, dear scotch-whyskey st-trinity i adore you.. but sometimes, lately you havn't been enough to me ... more... i am a starving child, hungry eyes, and mon coeur s'en est remis des fissures de son passe , certaines d'entr'elle ..

but right now let me be supersticious about the day and the next day , following le passe ..
i can feel it , love like une fiole qui depose tout doucement un poison, a perfcet drug , truth is barely there , the only kind of drop to fall on my toungue and to draw me inside like color perfect red and silver i beg it for ... but i know you will forget , maybe only a while in the distances how it felt really whe you were just there, right next there .. in the desert in the city with me ... when the skies were greens emerald and i saw winter i hate it now changing into calm and snow flakes falling slowly .... the way rough kids move when they are in caging bed, captivity by choice. only i don't really know if it so easy but i know all arround me there is shit, and more shit to crawl , try to into my life... i could definitely pay my bills or at least get nervous for real about it.. about this and that .. even about the fact that i will in more then 24 hours be in need to ask myself how truly will i feed my belly .... but that's all good i do better in nervous diet .. last year or so i lost so much so fast eating still 99 cents's montreal's finest pizza. but there was so much in my mind and no more space for the rest ...

ce soir , i get 3 words in a row, alligner tout bonnement , and i know it's not easy to say , and it's not easy to get out what for a second you hope and the ones aftre you feel it will die, it will run , it will be wrong even if you deserve it right , for once .. not less intense i would never say such things, but crazy can be smooth if given and take me... the way you want it .. i want nothing but no one of the all no other. body .. .. i want your eyes to be there just in front of me .. one more time ... you can try to blow in fear or hope because love is a sharpened feeling , but i said it before i will be the blade that don't cut ... but release comes ..
i know it does.

c'est le vide qui me fait peur. but i cannot fear for ever..
not only the past told me , not only words but enough to drive me crazy ..
patience de mise .. but it's hard to train wild species into turtle moving .. i run free..
today it felt sad but free

z.... now ..

2007-04-11T19:17:00.000-07:00

ok. so what about confusion... ici je me comprends, d'ans l'etat du chaos je me suis trouvee choyee... and a week ago i left this city, to my beloved montreal, and there it fell all over me .
but in the end i came back.. and there it is .. i am not the only monzzzzstarszz to be part
of la decadance de ces etres en attente de mon souffle, le printemps.....et oui on l'aurai bien cru ..
et puis quoi encore, je suis tout a vous mes dasme mes .. . . .
et .. gentleman , have you ever seen the colors are silver when i lay my toungue over ....
the canvas ...
toujours et encore cette couleur . i am back in to town.
i am back in to town . . i am to be black in town .
i will stay if project i lay upon my way , i will stay if stories are told to be truth..

i have serious unfinished business with my old love of A city ..
it doesn't matter. i shall crawl all over you .. t..o.r.o..n..t.o..o....oups! what
you have not a single clue yet so far of what i kan do...
reunir les especes en voies d'extinctions. and then you look arround ,
well i look arround for you , but i will get back into m.are... the sea inside me .,.
f.r.e.a.k.s..like the type of chlorophyle water you fall right in, and take a good spin. o swim .
i am not the one to show you the way .. i do know how to pray.
i want people to dress up in a map.... quest .... i could go for warrior, pirates, or hooooligans, it doesn't matter to me anymore, i just don't like to be riding for something alone , all alone ... i'd rather crawl my wholesome breakfast of the champions. and we'll see ..
but i am alive .. and so are you ... alive.. shall means aware to the Kore ........
i could have stayed in a city where it feels like i have slowly walked all over it's graves. but instead i am to redefine my prints, in fresh silver side .. o walk walk walk all over the.

t o bring you my love...

2007-03-14T22:01:00.000-07:00

ok.. so shall i write . more then i could . i just did . but the big technological monster ate my words once again .. i've seen that before.. words

from la creme de la creme.

Le Crépuscule du soir

Voici le soir charmant, ami du criminel;
II vient comme un complice, à pas de loup; le ciel
Se ferme lentement comme une grande alcôve,
Et l'homme impatient se change en bête fauve.

Ô soir, aimable soir, désiré par celui
Dont les bras, sans mentir, peuvent dire: Aujourd'hui
Nous avons travaillé! — C'est le soir qui soulage
Les esprits que dévore une douleur sauvage,
Le savant obstiné dont le front s'alourdit,
Et l'ouvrier courbé qui regagne son lit.
Cependant des démons malsains dans l'atmosphère
S'éveillent lourdement, comme des gens d'affaire,
Et cognent en volant les volets et l'auvent.
À travers les lueurs que tourmente le vent
La Prostitution s'allume dans les rues;
Comme une fourmilière elle ouvre ses issues;
Partout elle se fraye un occulte chemin,
Ainsi que l'ennemi qui tente un coup de main;
Elle remue au sein de la cité de fange
Comme un ver qui dérobe à l'Homme ce qu'il mange.
On entend çà et là les cuisines siffler,
Les théâtres glapir, les orchestres ronfler;
Les tables d'hôte, dont le jeu fait les délices,
S'emplissent de catins et d'escrocs, leurs complices,
Et les voleurs, qui n'ont ni trêve ni merci,
Vont bientôt commencer leur travail, eux aussi,
Et forcer doucement les portes et les caisses
Pour vivre quelques jours et vêtir leurs maîtresses.

Recueille-toi, mon âme, en ce grave moment,
Et ferme ton oreille à ce rugissement.
C'est l'heure où les douleurs des malades s'aigrissent!
La sombre Nuit les prend à la gorge; ils finissent
Leur destinée et vont vers le gouffre commun;
L'hôpital se remplit de leurs soupirs. — Plus d'un
Ne viendra plus chercher la soupe parfumée,
Au coin du feu, le soir, auprès d'une âme aimée.

Encore la plupart n'ont-ils jamais connu
La douceur du foyer et n'ont jamais vécu!

— Charles Baudelaire

Twilight

Behold the sweet evening, friend of the criminal;
It comes like an accomplice, stealthily; the sky
Closes slowly like an immense alcove,
And impatient man turns into a beast of prey.
O evening, kind evening, desired by him
Whose arms can say, without lying: "Today
We labored!" — It is the evening that comforts
Those minds that are consumed by a savage sorrow,
The obstinate scholar whose head bends with fatigue
And the bowed laborer who returns to his bed.

Meanwhile in the atmosphere malefic demons
Awaken sluggishly, like businessmen,
And take flight, bumping against porch roofs and shutters.
Among the gas flames worried by the wind
Prostitution catches alight in the streets;
Like an ant-hill she lets her workers out;
Everywhere she blazes a secret path,
Like an enemy who plans a surprise attack;
She moves in the heart of the city of mire
Like a worm that steals from Man what he eats.
Here and there one hears food sizzle in the kitchens,
The theaters yell, the orchestras moan;

The gambling dens, where games of chance delight,
Fill up with whores and cardsharps, their accomplices;
The burglars, who know neither respite nor mercy,
Are soon going to begin their work, they also,
And quietly force open cash-boxes and doors
To enjoy life awhile and dress their mistresses.

Meditate, O my soul, in this solemn moment,
And close your ears to this uproar;
It is now that the pains of the sick grow sharper!
Somber Night grabs them by the throat; they reach the end
Of their destinies and go to the common pit;
The hospitals are filled with their sighs. — More than one
Will come no more to get his fragrant soup
By the fireside, in the evening, with a loved one.

However, most of them have never known
The sweetness of a home, have never lived!

— William Aggeler, The Flowers of Evil (Fresno, CA: Academy Library Guild, 1954)

so here i am .. should be writing and long goes the nights i have been riding for a while.

i could have rode back to mi casa but there is no points . for now. i can hide my whole some at Jack's son. and feed me lychee tea all i need for now . i had a crazy day but i like it that way
running is starting to become an international sportz if only i can do it straight to the kore. .

so here i am in a new city. but i have kept the whole of me , seriously. i need to see darker but in the daylight. a good friend of mine told me i needed to find melancholy into someone's eyes. and i found myself getting allergic to all of those who don't know yet what la dramatique est..

et voici vers ou je veut allez ...

seriously o so soon ... more words and details to come sur mon attentat a l'art del amore.

Commedia dell'arte

Commedia dell'arte (Italian: "play of professional artists" also interpreted as "comedy of humors"), also known as Extemporal Comedy, was a popular form of improvisational theater which began in Italy in the 15th century (1400s) and maintained its popularity through to the 18th century (1700s), although it is still performed today. All of their performances were outside with few props, unscripted and were free to watch, funded by donations. In a troupe there were 10 people: 7 men and 3 women. Outside Italy, it was also known as "Italian Comedy".

The performances were improvised around a repertory of stock conventional situations: adultery, jealousy, old age, love, some of which can be traced in the Roman comedies of Plautus and Terence, which are themselves translations of lost Greek comedies of the fourth century BCE. These characters included the ancestors of the modern clown. The dialogue and action could easily be made topical and adjusted to satirize local scandals, current events, or regional tastes, mixed with ancient jokes and punchlines. Characters were identified by costume, masks, and even props, such as the slapstick. Lazzi and Conchetti are also used.

The classic, traditional plot is that the innamorati are in love and wish to be married, but one vecchio (elder) or several elders, vecchi, are preventing this from happening, and so they must ask one or more zanni for help. Typically it ends happily with the marriage of the innamorati and forgiveness all around for any wrongdoings. There are countless variations on this story, as well as many that diverge completely from the structure, such as a well-known story about Arlecchino becoming mysteriously pregnant, or the Punch and Judy scenario.

ok.... so you see. la comedia del art e the game i dream 2 plAy ..

et o au revoir.... marijo St-amour

les mots naissent de ma maison. dans ma tete.

2007-02-26T02:51:00.000-08:00

Dear turtle, it feels almost weird to write computerize, now, but i do read your words in a peaceful way. It's 3 ;38 in the am , and i am sitting at shawnda's desk, everybody is kind of asleep , i miss this insomnia's rage drooling into my head, right now i will end up writing you truths therefore i have no time really to think ahead of what shall i say . First you need to know , i do write also being scared of betrayed, of being fucked over and up and down.. but snakes. Seriously . I have been giving you words i shall admit i wanted to charm you. Not in a ride none of us cant afford. Because i know and you also probably know i also... should have been dead a many times before today .. but i wanna live . To the core.. why . Because it's all there is to do . But all that holds a lot more then we'll ever know . Life is love . And you already know there is struggles in every battle for life therefore love.

here goes your words. .. .

what is fear and can life be with out?

No ... you see , i shall lay down some of my inner tought on that. I have fear of being alone , when i was a kid someone gave me a play card with the drawing of a joker on it , and the card told me i never had to be alone. And this person ran in life by my side. See we are warriors from lands so close but we have eye's color's struggle in different ways . But like railways i believe they meet some how. I am so scared of leaving so far again, alone, i've dreamt of someone who would look into my eyes and heart , in whispers telling me we would go where no one knows , where sun shines , where my mother the ocean

rages inside it's own waves . . .

I do not believe that life would be life with out fear… but what is our fear? Is it that we fear death shame or life of loneliness?i will ramble my way right here. Fear . Are. And i too fear . Death sometimes when i think of how my mother left me, shame i want to show you how to crush it honestly in the space behind your eyes . . where sometimes we believe only the color black lays, but you need to know in darkness i saw more lights then in a lot of sunny days i have been riding this city . So much . So far . I have pushed down my limits back and forth like a wolf you are right even the snakes you adore could never catch me.

And even tonight i come back, the days have changed , but the times are still for us to define. This is where you need to further dive like you would do in a lake full of roads. See my friend, i am getting smoother then i should, i hate it with a smile when you call me friend, because i do not know what the w.o.r.d.s. Means to you . Yet . For me . I love . The love will expand and breathe in the day , and i have stopped to worry about O where will my love go . I do not know. But i have been born with this faith like blood that crawls the way i fantasize my hands all over your skin. Vessels in style they raddle inside and i shall stay innocent in the way i walk my own self to the gate where someone could ever tell you they alas will walk the roads and gravels without you. I am a cancer not only in an emotional way. More like i am steel stud solids in the way i protect my beloved friends . Crabs are

.	to move sideways, diagonally, or obliquely, esp. with short, abrupt bursts of speed; scutles

15.	catch a crab, to make a faulty stroke in rowing, so that the oar strikes the water forcibly on the backstroke.

So many people and I am so curious as to what people fear the most…

what i fear the most i s.. lost .... as much as i know you have to sometimes loose to gain ... i have lost so much loved ones , family, friends, lover, .... remember , maybe you know this feeling of loosing your own self, like this song i adore , loosing my religion. Well let me tell you i have lost enough already and i will always remember my friend pirate's words. When we loose one of us , we loose a part of us . And this is one truth you indeed probably went through back drops before . For .

Because this law reside in trust . Tonight i walked in a room full of my friends, and she was the one never we are drunk enough to forget who will stay , who stayed before, the ones that have left us all alone . And you never forget such things . And you grow up fast like a mother fucker you become stranger to your own self . IF .... si seulement .. on pouvait se suivre a la chaine comme les railles qui resiste encore et encore. For ever. .

you do . Maybe remember have i ever told you my life i chosen a long time ago to make it into a ...

P.L.A.Y.

play .. as a game.. you win and you loose .. but the show must go on ... thats why there is an animal inside me for every emotion i carry .. a turtle for the days i am not so sure off. And a terrible black panther for the ones i crave to devore.. and a killer whale for when i need to fuck off this city in style and move along the ocean .. for a while . For ..

inhale exhale.

And a cat for the city i can see through , and the lust in me when i wanna touch you , in the distances i am melting , because i know there is more for me to let go..go go gogo gogo go where no one know.

and what .. there you go . Le meilleur de moi-meme. That's what they say .. hit me with your best shot.

And i have met too many people to spare me. I am some kind of a woman, and a boy and a pirate, and a ninja when i find enough concentration to do so .

But i have lost before and gain some more,.. and i know i am no immortal baby there somedays a friend a long time ago made me listen to this song ; there is a vampire moon. Tonight . Scales. And i have forgotten the left over . But i need the whales . I mean the waves people i let them trace on me . I still do ... but honestly. f.e.a.r. i train them to quite help me . lick me .. i have hopes .

And i hope someone will be gentle and raw, and will forget a bit about tomorrows. And acknowledge we are not always here to stay . So many times i saw possibilities , i felt the dreams coming to me in proses so real i felt it in my skin .. but it turns out to be a disease or a .. another dreams . Dreamz .

They comes to me in music....

crazyyyyyyyyyyyyou wanna read me .. i am listening to Roxanne , this song like tango it plays in the moulin rouge. Tonight as an hystery( history) i tought i could re-write reality of the mile-end-rouge..

o lord .. i should keep that for when i throw away all i did so say .. in times when i lived here..

Montreal. I adore you . Even tonight .. i have not written like that in a long long time ...... because i know in the morning i will be walking along the railways ..... addictions or not ... .i will be true ... and it's absolutely ALL i care for...

the world outside can be the lie you wanted to forget about but no ... i shall stick to my new religion.

Tattoo on the skin. Scars you deserve to feel my friend . For the day maybe you'll want to touch me . No sex. Tracing our history in fine lines all along the body. Le corps. The one to carry . . i will be stable in the way i will stay . It takes me more sometimes to run away , i have forgot that i should fear being lost , or left . Behind . Even when i was running ahead of a time . 1645 the ages are to be re-define . . i have thrown up my fear , and now i am on a new diet .. called hopes ..

i hope you will let me take you ... o ... only with permissions i do these things . I write so confident. But i want you to take me away . Far .. further .. remember. The roller coaster that goes in a lane. Lines,,,,

l.i.v.e.f.o.r.w.a.r.d.s..t.h.e.d.a.y.s.............

o and also just because i am writing when some could assume i should be sleeping . No ones tells me when to sleep .. only .. my mind. My heart will say so sweet cuz i win .. this . I know .. my heart can let me know inside my brains when it's time to shut up ...

so someone asked me so gently what was ... my friend what is your greatest fear?

f/ea/r/ fear . More of loneliness. Because i know how to write ...

reality , a prison which i can only escape by writing ( anais nin )

you are right . I fear a lot . Actually more .. if i would to enumerate those worries.

Work, house, food, cigarettes and ran me a lullaby .. but all these are details...

details .. les details que je m'en fou . J'en suis a ce point . Tournant where i fear .. more like i care ..

for will i ever leave to travel with someone to ride along with m e. more company then the voices i dearly carry . I fear .... we do .and you . you know it .. but ...

there is suffering and lost .. and tralalalallalaaaaalala.. but i can spend the days thinking about it .. or i can just try .. a little harder to be brave ..

brave. —Synonyms 1. bold, intrepid, daring, dauntless, heroic. Brave, courageous, valiant, fearless, gallant refer to confident bearing in the face of difficulties or dangers. Brave is the most comprehensive: it is especially used of that confident fortitude or daring that actively faces and endures anything threatening. Courageous implies a higher or nobler kind of bravery, esp. as resulting from an inborn quality of mind or spirit that faces or endures perils or difficulties without fear and even with enthusiasm. Valiant implies a correspondence between an inner courageousness and external deeds, particularly of physical strength or endurance. Fearless implies unflinching spirit and coolness in the face of danger. Gallant implies a chivalrous, impetuous, or dashing bravery.

someone once told me i was not completely looking, running , searching, craving , for only love that it matters .. but for peace ..

courage .. .you need to walk through most of all you have not even faced yet ..

be brave.. and i will ... no matter what ...

why ! Because when i tell you i want to keep alive the child inside of me .. i think of ages before you and i . and your ancester were to maybe be born ...

fellini; there is no need of reality .

my name is Marijo St-Amour ( still ) awake ... i will follow the waves inside me ... and they are digne de pirates, de chevallerie, et romanesque... bring me .. feed me ,.. burlesqe ...

and i will pray .. howl at the moon .,.. for more .. ...

show me love . And i'll show you life . ( fuck even that i feel like i should maybe explain .. )

not the kind of love we tought we knew.. we were tought ..

l'amour est a reinventer.

o and don't you dare to tell me i am a believer ...

i only listen .. to my heart .. because .. he heart beats my days and i cannot . Run away .

And i use to carry a silver coeur, but i will stand at the border . And if they shoot me through . Then i will only be more of an open heart to suck in my own destiny. The blood to fall is my only illusion.

ma vie , c'est elle qui m'a choisie.

2007-01-31T23:26:00.000-08:00

through the last night

2007-01-31T23:08:00.000-08:00

2;21 am ... of course i am still awake. and oh awaiting for you to knock, knockin on my door.
my mind is alive somehow, my body will try it's best to survive for the next 10 crucial hours. 10 hours to pack some differences for 4 loads of my life , 3 to stay here in different space, and a one last one to escape with ourself in your mama's car.. in style. my tresor from the past hidding here and the real butin from my new supercherie so close to the metal i carry. hopefully we'll manage to bring the usual with us. i could have brought less. but i truly don't know what'll happen to me . will i stay in the anglo citar or will i come back to my montreastar after our cowboy ride in all of kanada. probably in french territory i will be back. only if my tricks and evilry goes well . as much as i am ready in life to cope for my sins, as much as i like to be free in the lands i adore. i give myself t'll i hit another year of my birth, if by then i am not a jailkid then i will have proof in the stars that my prays of avant-garde ceremonial sinematic stand-up dramaturgy ... !!! have been holy heard ! no seriously i have just been going through my mid-twenties crisis since last summer, it was time for me to thank thy fall back in an eternal chilish cavalerie. the only things that difference me from the kids out there is that i am succeptible enough to be locked in crazy yards. with fences high electrified me.
but if that ever happen then i'll spit in enough karma to stay i , peace and write endlessly on the muses that have endure me.
i now , sometimes can't stop myself thinking about johnny's ink n' body saying to thy.

es una vita. je souffle mes reves en boucaner en attente , later, je les deposserai sur les vagues de silver o for you . mi amore . la mare.
my name is the one you ear them say . i live forwards the day.

patience

2007-01-17T11:17:00.000-08:00

o mi angel. have mercy on my hours of sleep .
what was i thinking, after a long long day out and about , i went back to my home, i tried to ran against my lung , to be back where it's warm, to be back in time not to miss your voice one last time before i feel everything , new again, but not the same, it's crazy to grow up even in the distance ,i remember this lady who told me we communicate with the missing ones the way we talk on the phone, but the words are always blury , but you speak clear to me , but we are hungry. for more then just words.
hard to believe when you think of myobsession with words, because i use to be able of everyhing in the writing i did, but to act on my desire , was another story not well written ago. but i could not truly explain that story . one day i will.. and i'll live , for now , the way some will see throug glass. i broke mine.
i am alone , but i can't feel alone right now,i should be doing all the responsible things i have to do before i leave , piratery of my little superchery in this city .
i tought for real i was going where no one knows about the old me. not that i want to become somebody else, but i want to change , enough to feel it in my body. but o o funny apparently i am already known. and again by people assuming something they don't even understand. i'll have to leave with my o so precious words; the innocent , they can all kiss my ass. sideways 'what the fuck shall i do , care really , nope, i am busy with caring when will i next be able to sit on the grass without freezing . when will it feel goood to be onmy future balcony smoking an dwhyskey , withourt 8 layers thick . maybe sooner cuz it almost feel like i'm going souther. in a city not as good as montreal. but still i'll manage fast enough to find her credit. she actualy have credits enough for me to run there like a thief , well i am a thief in here . in this city i find love , i want to give some too. there is better milkshakes then here, and more water to look at, look with...
so finito living with absent roomate at her first flat, tryingto understand that papier cul is not something that only comes with santa claus . and my new soon to meet roomate. an older woman then me, that spell herself in an 'ezzzz goin''' .. and i'm sure ez-goin is mor efor me then hysterical student or party kids. ha ah ha , party kids, why don't i call myself one, cuz these days are party kids pretty often the ones to get wired on chemicals and pill popping , and if ever i try to follow them in there journey to psychedelik something ! well i'm doomed because i'll consume 5 times more then they do and still look like i have ha the sweetest coffee in themorning , and the more and more i go , on and on , i know for sure i like quite better the way i feel when i've slept sober and get to sip my espresso without any muscle feeling like the dreams have been violent enough to remember .

so o.k . i will not start on my anatomy analysis of the drugs i know. i care not , one day i just want to completely stop. and get stone on coffee . and ice cream.

2;51, i am looking a little at the window in case i would see you . if the time treats my dreams so right you should walk the door in less then 10 minutes, but it could be longer , that's o.k . it is o.k. to wait some more, if i remember how it felt for a week to craze your eyes , your hands, your self. while talking on the freaking phone, your voice sometimes changing in this way , when i only wanna hold you . but i felt li ethrwing the pillows by my window, and listening loud to Palace brothers. but i kept the pillows, there good pillows. writing here now is the only way to spare time. i fel a tiny little disapointed in me , i wanted to be so awake , and ready to run stable with you , but when the night should have ended last night i got awake and cleanes the way my father use to do when he was worried thinking too much . so it's clean but i slept only , barely 3 hours, wich makes me a little lot lazy. but it's o.k. just tell me it's o.k. i feel o.k. .
i am waiting for you to make more coffee, you might even bring some cream, i have honey . it's driving me crazy goo di have such thin walls all i hear the door every 5 seconds, wrong door, the only good doors are the ones you open.
i cannot believe i can stil sing noir desir after all the smokes i had, wine , scotch and name it. my hands refuse to stop typing until i see you . . i want nothing else.
not now. later maybe we;ll need food, and maybe sleep.
i feel so calm, wel the way i somehow am nervous but don't even realize it .
so calm but now i see , soon i'll feel how soon i am leaving , all the work i have to do, all the people i love, i want to see them , to keep the alive in my mind, some of my fried si know already it has notbeen the last time i'll see the in a while , but i miss them already , when i walk on vanhorne on my way to Tom, alteha y company i feel so much home, in the streets i don't really go out to coffee shop, whne i do i step out to fast in the cold that it becomes pointless. o.k. so you should be there but the subway is slow, maybe your driver felt like timmy every 30 minutes.

i want stop the writing , i could say anything , everything , change subject and talk about it all, my life or the life i saw down the street when i saw this older men loking so alone waiting for the bus to take him home ,but even home ! home is in the souvenirs he kept in the far stop , there in teh back of his heart . one is nowhere else but in you . home is in the peole you see , the people that loves you , when their eyes are reflective mirrors of who yo are .

to be continued

softly crushen songs for you .

2007-01-11T22:40:00.000-08:00

my silver love will turn steel. still. you know steal.. le metal de mon coeur n'est certe pas douleur , aucune douleur. no pain . some could say O what for a change . but no one shall dare to awaken the snakes when slowly you helped me and i hope i helped you too. remember this way we found , to put the snakes asleeps. so nothing will rattle me down to the ground , the cutting ground where i sometimes knew exactly where to put my knee. who doesn't. but i did .. for es una vita . but so now . somehow recently we fell together in a new year o seven lifes of a cat but i wanna keep more then that for all the seconds, years or infinite whispers you'll let me be by your side. and i have gone to spy tonight on your words . in a lively part of the web.. and i am a spider , a sweet sweet spider the way my hands travels your skin. the way i wish i could play you serenade in a five string slides down .. rythm . my hands a spiderweb . but i keep my eyes open for you. five . days in awaits . then i'll ring the bells to the real pictures just to let them know we are about to fuck off.. leave .. in the space we created.. and from a ship we cuddle and look at you mice .. and feed you cheeze .. no one is gonna get trap .. there will be life .. no death . no doubt ..

( i am ) Losing the star without a sky
Losing the reasons why ( there is no reasons why .. so be it )
Youre losing the calling that youve been faking,
but i will show you my eyes where there are no lies
And Im not kidding, we are playing .
playing the way childrens do . and it's kinda true.

Its damned if you dont and its damned if you do
Be true cause theyll lock you up in a sad sad zoo, aouuuuuuuu !!
like we fear to let go and go crow,crave, show me claws
i'll show you tender, i cry like a dog sometimes
and we still always move like feline .
alone i am an alley cat . and you are a lion.
Oh hidy hidy hidy what cha tryin to prove
By hidy hidy hiding youre worth an ocean rain.(no chains )

Sew your fortunes on a string
And hold them up to light
Blue smoke will take
A very violent flight
And you will be changed
( i want to change. what i can. not what i've been, nor who i am , but what i'll be )
Sand everything, i will say everything
sand in flesh and grains all through my vein, i will show myself true
And you know we sometimes sound like a very very happy zoo.

I once was lost but now Im found aware
and asleep, and awake I see you ( want to )
How selfish of us to believe in the meaning of all the sweet and luscious dreaming .

(selfish no more..no sin.and even with
i still believe we'll be stolen away by the angels of light )

silver toungue youre not hiding
Metal heart you are worth everything
and you have turned my toungue liquid so fast , melting down even when i lay awake in the distance . i still feel the heat, the colors, the feeling is blue.
Metal heart i never want you to be hiding
Metal heart how did you become my most precious ring. they tought that i was not worth a thing . but now i can look forwards the day .. and the rings in circling deep beneath my eyes, are in love and they sharpened every day .

note to the random reader .. imagine the circle in 8 infinite .. you always tough circles could never cut through the days , or rock if that matters , well .. idiot .. i have just showed you how circles are blades created by metal heart ..
our love is sharp...

tonight ... i havnt written here in a long long time . o my hands please forgive me .. for spending your time on adds and post and rooms and AHHHHHHHH ! don't care right now.. i have just finally done what i tought i had to do 8 months ago .. but no .. NOW .. is the time . it'll be over soon .. not for ever . never forever i'm thinking montreal i will miss you . and maybe some will miss me. but you were home in a way i can't deny . . and who knows maybe my ocean blue will bring back waves towards you sooner then you tought , waves. in the streets where i know by the railway where to find my ship-o-full of pirates, and crazy kids we are grown-ups animals... le cirque de ma vie.. est ici... but for now .. i will play spy . the smokey clown will play it almost serious , no kidding , walk walk in another city .. and like a mime.movements on the side of the street, i will spy with a lovely smile. ( machiavelique but no one can ever tell ) to the man down there . and i will try not to forget ......alll .. you and you ..
and you .. who once have told me ; ''je n'ai pas a gagner ma vie, je l'ai''
''je n'ai pas a gagner ma vie, je l'ai''
''je n'ai pas a gagner ma vie, je l'ai''

ah ah ah ah ah ah ah i DO love it when i laugh inside in perfect silences while the nights go away ... closer to the day you will be here to laugh aussi.
3;o7 oh oh oh i have not forgotten how to write ..all... takes times.. beautiful times but al i wanna do is spin forwards the arrows on the clock... faster .. but no .. PASSION NEED PATIENCE ...
oh

now.

2007-01-07T18:04:00.000-08:00

all i do is miss you .
and smoke cigarettes..